


Wait For It

by teamchaosprez



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Artificial Intelligence, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, Espionage, Friendship, Multi, Nightmares, Overwatch Family, Past Relationship(s), Post-Recall, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Redemption, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2018-11-28 21:05:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 54,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11426169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teamchaosprez/pseuds/teamchaosprez
Summary: Previously titled "History Has Its Eyes On You."Overwatch is climbing back out of the shadows. Talon is reaching a new level of global power. All the while, the second omnic crisis drifts closer.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by this animatic: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B8W-seEkL_A  
> And also by the wonderful fic "Break My Heart, Break Your Heart"
> 
> i have been working on this thing for weeks, from plotting to actually writing out this chapter. this is essentially going to be the story of how overwatch gets on its feet again, because who has time to wait for blizz, really?
> 
> i'm going to try and fit all of the heroes in this. i hope you enjoy.

The call came late into the night.

He had never gotten rid of the comm. Kept it in the pocket of his jacket more for sentiment than anything else. He liked to pull it out every once in a while, stare at the logo on the back of its smooth plastic casing, remember speaking commands into it and occasionally cracking jokes that he knew would make, at the very least, Tracer laugh. He remembered the voices of allies and friends long gone, long dead; he remembered getting calls on that thing that he thought would change his life but that he only vaguely could recall now that life had dealt him different cards.

The glory days were a brighter time. A time he longed to return to.

Ana was seated alone in the maze of buildings that made up the Necropolis, just a few yards away from him with a cup of tea in one hand and a novel in the other. She was much more used to finding things to occupy her time with than he was, and he would probably jump up and run back to being a vigilante at all hours if she didn’t have a strict curfew in place. He thought it was ridiculous, but he did need her help, and so he remained where he was at his old friend’s orders.

“You really ought to get some sleep, Jack. I know that staring at that thing is like a hobby for you, but there are better things to do with your time,” she spoke up after a while, making her way across the room in order to sit beside him and watch the moon with wise, tired eyes. Ana’s movements were silent and stealthy, as the steps of a sniper always needed to be lest she give away her position and be shot down; even in the times where she was off duty and calm, it was a habit that stuck.

Soldier: 76 couldn’t judge her for it. He had its own habits that were based in survival. In trying to make it another day on the battlefield. After being a soldier for as long as the both of them had, and vigilantes even afterwards,  there wasn’t much in terms of their instincts that they could be faulted for. Attempts at retirement never worked out too well. It was in their blood to fight. To help those that couldn’t help themselves. To work towards goals, set by others or themselves, whether that be finding the truth about the Swiss explosion as Soldier was trying to do or simply trying to protect the innocents as Ana had been doing from the shadows for years.

“I know,” he responded, halfway tempted to lean on her shoulder but choosing instead to move the communicator into his lap and direct his attention towards the moon as well. He could try to explain that he spent more than half of his nights restless because of nightmares, his mind working in overdrive, or a combination of the two, but he knew that she struggled with many of the same things. So he just left it at that. Doomed himself to silence yet again.

“Come on, Jack. Have some tea. It might soothe your nerves.” She nudged him ever so slightly with her elbow, and got up as quietly as she had sat down. He didn’t have the heart to correct her on calling him by his old name, and he certainly didn’t want to tell her that the heat was too intense for him to drink any sort of hot beverage, so he simply sighed and followed suit.

Before he could even make it a few steps, though, he could feel a rather intense vibrating in his pocket. A motion meant to be strong enough to wake you but not loud enough to draw attention. A sensation that he knew well, but had not experienced in years.

The communicator was going off.

It was out of his pocket and in his hand in almost comical time, and surely enough, the logo was glowing a bright yellow. Soldier: 76 furrowed his brows, confusion making most thoughts impossible, and he was startled ever so slightly by the quickness with which Ana moved towards him and stared at the device with wide brown eyes. He wanted to answer it, God did he want to answer it.

But he was supposed to be dead. Ana was supposed to be dead.  _ Overwatch  _ was supposed to be dead, for fuck’s sake.

Heart thudding dully in his chest, Soldier simply stared at the communicator until it stilled, and once it had stopped vibrating and glowing in his hand his head snapped up to meet Ana’s gaze. “Can we figure out where the signal was coming from?” he asked quickly, and just as he finished the question the sniper had snatched the device from his hands and rushed to the computer against one stone wall.

* * *

 

The call came late into the afternoon.

Jesse McCree had just settled into a booth in the Panorama Diner, the careful plans for his most recent assignment laid out in front of him, and his cigar in his mouth as always. The Deadlock Gang had abandoned the diner long ago after he had ratted them out during his time working with Blackwatch, and though he was sure they were still in operation around the Gorge, he hadn’t seen much of them in recent years and was fine to let them be as long as they didn’t threaten too many lives.

The diner was a testament to his youth, and as rough as his past has been it offered some sort of comfort to him, so he frequented the place. Several times he had thought of how much easier his life would be if he would just buy out the restaurant and reopen it as a respectable business, but he doubted that was something he would see as viable for very long given that he was more of a gun shooting kind of guy. He would stick to the bounty hunting business.

He had been hired to take out a rather corrupt politician, someone whose mother or something had been involved with a terrible president sometime in the last century and who wanted to make America the shithole of hate and terror it had been then. He was normally content to keep out of the business of this sort of thing, but if keeping his country decent wasn’t a just cause he didn’t know what was. A map of the area where the politician was supposed to pass through while driving to California - an area of Arizona that was conveniently close by.

McCree was scribbling instructions and plans for himself across the map in a thick Sharpie marker when he heard a rather intense vibrating from behind the diner’s counter. He was tempted to ignore it and just keep on plotting, but he knew exactly what the noise was - it was the Overwatch communication device that he had always kept tucked away in a box of his old shit for nostalgia’s sake. That noise definitely wasn’t something that he was supposed to be hearing, given that Overwatch activity had been illegal for a good five years now.

The cowboy got to his feet, the spurs on the back of his boots jingling slightly with his steps as he made his way to the counter and leaned over it to reach the box. The communicator was mercifully easy to reach, and surely enough, it was ringing something fierce. McCree was well aware that it might be someone trying to use it to track down former Overwatch and Blackwatch agents, but he was aware that he was quite skilled at floating underneath the radar, and he could always abandon Route 66 for a while if he really needed to.

So he took the communicator in one hand, and pressed the button to answer it.

* * *

 

The call came ungodly early into the morning or ungodly late at night, depending on how you looked at it.

She was sleeping peacefully in a hotel room, a blissful change of pace from the medical tents that she had called home in the months she had been in Afghanistan, and that she probably would still be sleeping in if not for her girlfriend’s visit. Angela Ziegler’s face was pressed against Fareeha Amari’s front, the younger woman’s strong arms protectively wrapped around her and her gentle snoring keeping her calm even if a nightmare roused her from her sleep.

The security guard was only going to be there a week before she returned to Egypt, so the doctor desperately wanted to take advantage of the time they had together. Neither of them had a lot of belongings; Fareeha had two duffel bags, one with a bunch of clothes in it and another that contained only a box labelled “Mum’s Things,” and Angela’s belongings were still kept in one of the various trucks she rode around the Middle East with the rest of her medical staff.

Angela had gotten rid of all of her Overwatch belongings with the exception of a single turtleneck sweater with the logo embroidered into the neck. She had been more relieved than anything when the organization went down; she loved the company of those she worked closely with, but she hated little more than working for such a militant and hierarchy based organization. Jack and Ana held very little real power compared to those that brought the organization together in the first place; they controlled missions and the public eye, the higher ups controlled everything else.

Including her medical operations.

She felt guilty about many things she had done while working for Overwatch. Saving those that would be better off dead. Making rash decisions under immense pressure that haunted her to this day. She knew Fareeha had always wanted to work with the organization as a child, and still idolized many of the heroes that had fought for it, so she never told her of the shadier aspects of the organization - perhaps if she had, she wouldn’t have been woken up at 3:30 in the morning by a sound similar to a vibrating phone but so, so much worse.

Brows furrowed, Angela wriggled free from her girlfriend’s grip and made her way to the suitcases piled by the door of the hotel room. A breeze hit her bare skin from the open window, and she shivered ever so slightly at the chill, but was undeterred in her quest to find out why in the high heavens an Overwatch communicator was going off now, five years after it was shut down, in a hotel room in the middle of Afghanistan. Unzipping one of Fareeha’s suitcases, she was able to pinpoint the source as the box of Ana Amari’s belongings that the younger woman carried with her wherever she went in the hopes of someday getting to return them to the veteran.

A communicator was, in fact, ringing, and the moment Angela took the metal object in her hands, she was at a crossroads - unsure of what to do next.

She hated being under the control of those in charge of Overwatch at a level not even Jack could reach; she hated the medical treatments she was forced to go through with to save the lives of those that would be better off dead than facing the future in front of them. However, she had long adored the friends she made while there; she always loved being able to help those that she cared about as well.

_ Overwatch was shut down for a reason,  _ she reminded herself quietly.  _ Anything related to it is criminal activity. There’s no way this could be an official recall of the organization. There’s no way that the world leaders that created it could be a part of this. _ And if that was true… then it was her friends that were trying to reach out to the former members of the organization. Maybe they needed her.

And Fareeha wanted so badly in her youth to be a hero of Overwatch. She remembered when they were barely older than children, and she would ask whoever she could for advice on how to get into the organization. She remembered the soul crushing disappointment she felt when she couldn’t get in; the determination to try again the next time the recruiting process began, only for it to be shut down before she got the chance. What would her girlfriend say if she knew that she was faced with the decision of whether or not to return to Overwatch, and chose not to?

With that thought, Angela Ziegler hesitated, and answered the call.

* * *

 

The call came just after sunrise.

Genji Shimada had already been awake for hours, sitting cross-legged with his master at his side and meditating. His eyes were closed, thoughts in a much farther plane of existence and all of his concentration focused on the inner peace he had achieved. His daily routine had yet to start, and for the moment he was more than happy to remain with Tekhartha Zenyatta in one of the frequently silent rooms of the temple.

His meditation was only interrupted when vibrations began running against his side.

He had not received a call from the Overwatch communicator that was essentially a part of him in many years, to the point that he had forgotten it was there. When he left, the attempts to reach him only continued for a week before they stopped - when the organization was shut down, he was under the impression that he would never feel it again. Genji was startled enough that he was broken from his state of peace and concentration immediately, his hand going to the communicator at his side as he quickly pulled it out and stared at the smooth surface.

Unsure of what to do.

“Aren’t you going to answer it?” the omnic beside him asked rather suddenly, and guilt was the first emotion Genji felt as he glanced over to Zenyatta. He hadn’t meant to interrupt his master’s meditation as well as his own, and he immediately felt awkward about being questioned about it. He knew that Zenyatta was well aware of the communicator’s origins, and much of the reason he had left his years working with Overwatch in the first place. 

“I don’t know,” Genji replied, looking back to the communicator. “They were like a family to me, but I know why I left. It has been so good for me to remain here, instead of there.”

“That is because of your personal growth, not because of your surroundings,” Zenyatta spoke in nearly a hum, a sure sign that he was thinking. “You have changed as a person, Genji, and I am sure that no matter where you go, the peace you have found will remain the same. It is your choice whether or not to answer the call.” He looked away, and waited just a moment before adding, “Though I may have to go if you do not. I’m rather curious to see why a long disbanded organization would be calling you.”

If Genji still had the ability to, he would have frowned, but as it stood he could only think for a moment more. Zenyatta was probably right - it would do little to harm him to answer a phone call and perhaps return to working with those he had befriended so long ago. And if he was needed, well, who was he to say no and stand by as disaster struck?

So just before he knew the vibrating would stop, Genji answered the call.

* * *

 

It was late at night when the call came.

Lena Oxton was just getting ready to go to bed, placing her chronal accelerator in its charging port and glancing back at the peacefully sleeping Emily. She had kept all sorts of memorabilia from her Overwatch days around her, and her communicator was still somewhat active even after five years; how else were she and Winston supposed to plan when they would have their dinner parties, after all? So even though it was unusual to call this late, she wasn’t really all that surprised when it began vibrating on her dresser - she was more worried that it would wake her girlfriend.

So there was really no question about it. The young woman scooped up the device in one hand and made her way into the living room before clicking the button to answer, and nearly dropping the thing when instead of Winston’s voice a huge projection of him was generated in front of her.

_ “Thirty years ago, the omnics declared war. The nations of the world had no answer, until they called upon a small group of heroes - Overwatch was created to rescue humanity from the omnic crisis. We became the greatest champions of peace and progress mankind has ever seen! You joined because you had powers and abilities that made you… you joined because you… you already know this. Look. The people decided they were better off without us. They even called us criminals. They tore our family apart. But look around! Someone has to do something!  _ We _ have to do something! We can make a difference again. The world needs us now, more than ever. Are you with me?” _

She stood in silence for several moments after the hologram ended and the pixels had faded into the darkness of her apartment living room, but her silence didn’t last very long. Lena kicked into high gear almost immediately, sprinting back into their bedroom and pulling her chronal accelerator back onto her chest, gently shaking Emily’s shoulder to try and wake her up, giddy with excitement and nerves and a million other emotions that settled into a cocktail at the bottom of her stomach and almost made her feel a little bit nauseous.

She was overwhelmed, but nothing in the world could hold her back.

“Come on, babe, it’s time to get up. We’re going to the watchpoint.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela and Fareeha arrive at the watchpoint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls tie me down so i stop writing

It would have been suspicious for so many former Overwatch agents to fly in to Spain around the same day - the same country as the main base of the organization in its heyday. For that purpose, some of them decided to take more quiet routes; Genji would travel on foot with Zenyatta, even if that would take a much longer time. McCree would truck across America and then arrive at the watchpoint by boat. Angela and Lena, at the very least, could come by plane - pretending that they were just going out for romantic vacations with their beloved girlfriends. Spain was a beautiful country, after all, and it would be overlooked that the women were former Overwatch agents as long as they acted sappy enough.

The good doctor was more than a little bit nervous to return to the base that had been like a second home to her for years. Angela was trying to hide it, though, not wanting to make Fareeha feel any less excited than she apparently was based on how her usually fairly serious face was cracked into a large smile. A flight attendant or two had given them a weird look, and she had just given a small shrug and apologetic smile. Trying to explain why her muscular and slightly scary girlfriend was just barely avoiding bouncing in her seat probably would just make the situation works.

It was vastly cooler in Spain than it was in Afghanistan or Egypt, and Angela even found herself feeling a little bit chilly as she stepped off of the plane. She linked her arm through her girlfriend’s, glancing around the crowded airport and hoping to God that nobody would recognize her from the various news reports and interviews she had been through during the Overwatch years. “Are you sure I shouldn’t have just dyed my hair to try and disguise myself?” she asked quietly, glancing up at Fareeha, who was smiling brightly down at her.

“Nonsense, Angela, you are absolutely fine. It’s been years since the last time you were hounded by people wanting an Overwatch interview. I’m sure we can walk around perfectly fine.” She then waited a moment, the smile fading a little bit as she led Angela towards the exit with their luggage in one arm. “Though I’m not sure how we’re supposed to get into the watchpoint without drawing some sort of attention. At least… not in broad daylight.  _ That’s _ illegal.”

She clucked her tongue, and thought about it for a moment. She remembered the way there from the town, yes, but she wasn’t exactly adept at sneaking into places without being seen. There were multiple entrances into the base, but a majority of them were either too obvious to possibly work or were off a cliff face - and just because a giant gorilla from the moon had been living there for five years didn’t mean that any kids wandering around the premises wouldn’t be nosy enough to spot a couple of women walking right in. Actually, now that she thought about it…

“You’ve got the Raptora with you in one of those bags, right? We might be able to sneak around the cliff and make it in one of the back entrances. I could walk there with my eyes closed, so we don’t have an issue with finding the watchpoint.” She was already thinking, visualizing a plan in her head; the property didn’t expand all the way around the cliff, so it wasn’t like there was no possible way to drop off the side without wandering into Overwatch territory. “We could even find an inn in town and wait until nightfall if we really need to. It isn’t like this is time sensitive; Genji wouldn’t be walking if it was.”

“I have it, but I don’t know if it’s safe,” the head of security responded slowly, watching her with worried brown eyes. “I’m sure that we can fly around the cliff with a few trips for the luggage, but I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to carry you there. What if I drop you?” Fareeha spoke quietly and slowly, trying to keep secretive about what was going on so that they didn’t rise suspicion.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll wear the Valkyrie so I can just fly back up to you if I fall. Even if I didn’t have it, though, I would trust you not to drop me.” She pressed a kiss against the younger woman’s cheek, and almost giggled at the bright blush that appeared across Fareeha’s cheeks. She squeezed her hand gently, giving her a small mischievous smile and leading her out of the airport and down the street, glancing upwards in the distance to see the tall roof of the watchpoint. She gulped a little, nervous once again to return to the building where she had lived for so many years.

Fareeha seemed to sense her nerves, and gently squeezed her hand in an attempt to comfort her before clearing her throat and speaking again. “So, do you have any stories about the glory days?”

The good doctor couldn’t help but giggle a little bit at the sudden change of subject, but gave her girlfriend a bright smile of appreciation for the attempt to make her feel better. “You know, I think I do. I have some pretty good ones about your mother and the original strike team, too.”

* * *

 

They made the decision to make their way into the watchpoint at night, when it was less likely for somebody to be wandering around the watchpoint to see a couple of women flying in from the back. If Angela’s heart wasn’t pounding earlier, it was now that they were so close to the building - so close to returning to the days she swore she never would; Fareeha had to nudge her to remind her to drop her suitcase next to the taller woman’s, and almost as soon as she did she was scooped up by her girlfriend.

“Are you ready to fly across?” Fareeha asked the blushing doctor, and it took only a nod for her to hop off the ground and take flight with her held to her chest. It had been a long time since Angela was genuinely in the air without a plane around her, so she couldn’t help but squeak a little bit and wrap her arms tightly around the Egyptian’s neck, and her blush only deepened when Fareeha laughed a little at her. “I thought you said that you trusted me not to drop you,” she teased lightly, but didn’t look down at her in favor of focusing on keeping on the air; something Angela was grateful for.

Still, the doctor playfully huffed and lightly smacked her girlfriend’s chest. “I  _ do _ trust you not to drop me, I was just a little surprised. I haven’t flown in a while.” She glanced down at the ocean water crashing against the rocks at the bottom of the cliff. Angela swallowed dryly, and quietly thanked the good lord that she didn’t ever have to worry about flying herself anywhere. “How much fuel do you have in that jet pack, by the way? I’m… just curious. It seems like a lot.”

She shrugged, and actually glanced at Angela for a split second. “Enough for this, but not a lot. I have to conserve it when I go out on missions. I’ve been looking into ways to expand how much fuel the pack can carry, though, but it’s a little difficult with how heavy the Raptora is.”

After what felt like forever, Fareeha finally touched down on the ground, and Angela wasn’t sure whether she hesitated to let go of her girlfriend because she wanted to continue holding on or because she was nervous to. Either way, though, she let go and landed on her feet.

The doctor didn’t have very much time to get used to being grounded, however, when she was startled by a loud shriek of her name and a very, very fast flash of blue suddenly turning into a very familiar young British woman that threw herself at her in a massive bear hug. Angela very nearly fell over into the dirt, but before she got the chance to, a very enthusiastic and excited Lena Oxton lifted her into the air in what was almost a suffocating hold. “Oh my god, Angie, it’s been  _ way _ too long!”

Angela laughed a little, and gently patted her friend’s back as she was hugged tightly. “Yes, it has,” she laughed as Lena pulled out of the hug, keeping her hands on her friend’s shoulders. “Oh, it feels like it has been ages since we talked. We  _ have _ to sit down and catch up later, I’ve missed you so much.” She was actually beginning to feel a little emotional having the young woman that had been among her closest friends five years ago so near. “I want to know if you’re still trying to get into running…”

Lena seemed like she was about to say something, but was distracted rather easily when she spotted the tall Egyptian just behind her. “Oh, my god, Fareeha!” She practically  _ yelled, _ throwing her hands over her head and ran over to give her a tight hug as well. The train of Lena enthusiasm seemed to have moved to its next station, and Angela was barely able to hold back laughter as Fareeha seemed rather overwhelmed by how much love and affection that she was receiving from an old friend. She clearly wasn’t used to getting as much high energy attention as she was getting from the former pilot.

She was focused enough on watching the two women have an almost one person conversation that she was a little startled when a tall woman with bright yet hair suddenly walked up next to her with her arms crossed over her chest. The woman was giving her a bright smile, and so Angela didn’t hesitate to return it. “You must be Dr. Ziegler,” she spoke - almost a little shyly and awkwardly - as she held her hand out for a handshake, which Angela accepted quickly. “I’m Emily. Lena’s girlfriend. I, uh, looked up to you when I was younger. I had your poster on my wall.”

The doctor laughed a little, a little bit of a blush appearing across her cheeks as she withdrew her hand. “I didn’t even know that I had posters,” she admitted a little awkwardly, glancing back and watching Fareeha try to peel Lena off so that she could go back for their luggage. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Emily. I’m sure that if Lena brought you than she must care about you quite a bit.”  _ Or not at all, _ the more negative part of her brain added on, but she ignored it.

“Ah, either that or she didn’t want you to be left alone as the only medic around,” Emily laughed out, rubbing the back of her head. “I just got my nursing degree, so… if you ever need any help in the medical ward or something then I’m always happy to help.”

“I’m sure I’m going to be needing the help. Once more people show up you’ll be surprised by how much trouble that these agents can get themselves into.” She smiled, and wasn’t even startled when Lena suddenly attached herself to her back again - she must have finally let Fareeha go.

“I told Fareeha where to go!” the former pilot announced with enthusiasm, lifting her legs so that she was hanging onto Angela like a baby koala. “So we can go ahead and go inside whenever you’re ready, Angie. I know Winston’s been dying to see you again, too! You know that he’s had that picture of you and Torbjorn at Halloween hanging up on his computer?” She giggled a little, and Angela was almost a little embarrassed just by that news.

She remembered that witch costume. She probably still had it tucked away in her closet somewhere - but the idea of seeing her old gorilla friend in person instead of just as a hologram was exciting enough as it is.

“You know what? Lead the way, Lena.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela missed this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow ok sorry this took a while!!! i ran out of writing juices for a bit but it's all cool now

It was getting late in the evening, and Angela sat in one of the chairs that Winston had pulled up in the room, nursing a cup of coffee and staring down into the warm liquid. She felt a little nauseous just listening to her former coworkers talk. She had been expecting for them to want to get back on track, deliver justice, act like a glorified undercover police force or something like that. What she hadn’t really been expecting, though, was for them to seriously want to go to the United Nations and plead for Overwatch to be put back into effect.

Yes, she understood wanting their jobs to be made much easier. She understood that Winston wanted for everything to be more official and for everything to be just like the glory days. In a way, she even felt the same… but she knew that not only would the UN not listen, they may also be arrested. Criminalized. Especially considering that now, Fareeha was among them - it could be seen as having a new recruit, regardless of whether or not it was explained. She knew that she would have to deal with the anxiety of being forced to perform surgeries that were an affront to her moral code. 

What made it worse, though, was that those around her were on board with it as well. Lena was more interested in the  _ getting in on the action _ part of Overwatch, and just wanted things to be back. Winston was comfortable with the strict but predictable orders that had been given. Fareeha and Emily were outsiders - they knew very little about the inner workings of the organization. Angela knew that Genji and McCree would probably share her concerns, but they hadn’t arrived in Gibraltar yet and weren’t supposed to until sometime the next day. So that left her alone to speak up and make an attempt to bring her friends back to reality.

“I don’t think it would be a good idea to go back to the United Nations and ask for Overwatch to be officially rebooted,” she spoke up cautiously, and could feel Fareeha’s hand rest against hers. She didn’t need to look next to her to see the confused look on her face. “All Overwatch activity is deemed illegal. We could get in serious trouble if there’s even a little bit of suspicion that we all met up in an abandoned base… and recruited two new members.” She glanced between Emily and Fareeha before clearing her throat and speaking up again. “Not only that, but the higher control was kind of what hurt us before. Lowered morale, more internal frustration with those more in charge. It might be best to keep quiet, and try to do whatever good we’re capable of with what we already have or what we can afford. Perhaps even give ourselves a new name.”

The gorilla hummed slightly in thought, and Angela almost expected for him to agree with her. However, she knew that he had been raised by scientists - by a routine with little flexibility. He’d gotten comfort from knowing that higher ups were leading them towards the greater good. “I see where you’re coming from, Dr. Ziegler, but we do need the funding that the UN brought us. I don’t think even all of us put together can afford enough fuel to keep our aircrafts going. Our weapons loaded.”

“Perhaps we could take a more pacifistic and non-violent approach, then. Only use force when necessary. Try diplomacy.” Not that the organizations that were causing this much trouble for the world would listen to some talking, but she could dream. As much as she loathed to admit it, violence was the solution more often than not. All she could really do was try to help people live through it.

“I don’t think that’s really a smart way to go about things, Angela. We do need more funding than just individual members are going to bring in.” He paused for a moment. “But you might be right about not going to the UN immediately. We might want to try and build up, get back on our feet first. So we can prove that we did more good than bad. That we can  _ still _ do more good than bad. We can try the calmer approach until we have more support.”

“We should try working on recruiting, too,” Lena commented within a few moments, perking up a little as if she had a good idea. “It shouldn’t be too hard to do it. Seek out some successful soldiers or scientists or healers around the world. Spread rumors around their inner circles. Maybe some people will feel the need to come to the base and investigate, so that we can have some more people, more manpower, and more funding. It’s a little bit risky, but I don’t think we could really get around to doing all that much with…” she counted on her fingers, “seven people, if we include Emily.”

“The call reached more than just five people, too. You guys were just the first ones to respond to the call and organize how to get here with me. We still might have more Overwatch members showing up - I doubt that Reinhardt and Torbjorn would leave us in the dust if they still have their communicators around.” He rose to all fours, and moved a little closer to the supercomputer to type something in. “I’d try to track where every communicator was, but I don’t think people would appreciate one of us showing up at their houses.”

“Maybe if we get desperate,” Fareeha joked lightly, and Lena laughed just a  _ little _ too hard at that. Maybe they had gotten a little over their heads with this, but that simple comment was enough to dissolve any tension or worry that was left in the room and get most of the agents - and civilian - in the room to get to joking and making small talk. Angela smiled lightly and leaned on her girlfriend’s shoulder. For the moment, it felt just like old times - like the last five years had never happened.

As much as she had enjoyed her break from working with Overwatch, she had to admit it; she’d genuinely missed this. Missed her friends; being so close to people that she cared about and that she knew had similar experiences. As much as she loathed to admit it, the watchpoint was home to her; more home than medical tents and sleeping in the back of a truck had been during her time doing first responder work in the middle east.

“Well, I, uh, certainly can’t cook, but Emily and Lena went grocery shopping while we were waiting for you two to arrive. I’m sure that somebody here should be able to whip something up - I don’t think any of us have eaten, and it’s getting kind of late.” Winston rose to his feet, and gestured for the women in the room to follow him. Angela remembered where the kitchen and mess hall were, and she knew full well that she was the best at cooking in the room - Winston lived off of peanut butter and bananas, Lena would be perfectly content with getting fast food for every meal, Emily was capable of  _ helping _ in the kitchen but would probably cry if asked to prepare something on her own, and Fareeha had barely stepped foot in the kitchen in years, opting to let anyone else cook instead. So she was the one that led the way instead of letting the scientist.

As soon as she stepped into the hallway, memories began flooding back. She could remember walking back into the command room to discuss her medical research with the other Overwatch doctors. She remembered sprinting into the hangar to make an attempt to help keep Lena stable when she finally reappeared after the Slipstream incident. She remembered having quiet conversations with Genji in this very hallway when he was thinking about running away from Overwatch.

In fact, this was the same hallway where she met Fareeha, if she remembered quickly. It was her first week working with Overwatch - she was just a child then, barely eighteen, and felt very important walking out of a meeting with her superiors - and Ana Amari had steered the little thirteen year old Fareeha in her direction to introduce her, talking about how happy she was that there was another teenager hanging around the watchpoint as Angela didn’t have the heart to tell her that she wasn’t terribly interested in hanging out with somebody five years younger than her.

They had bonded quickly, though, as the good doctor slowly realized that she wasn’t as mature as she thought she was and that having somebody younger than most of the middle aged adults walking around was nice. Back then, Angela had considered her a younger sister, and knew that Fareeha had a childish crush on her; she often joked with the child that if she ate her vegetables and became big and strong that she would be her girlfriend.

Well, here they were today - Fareeha was  _ quite _ big and strong, and Angela was her girlfriend. It amused her a little bit that she’d kept a promise made in a much simpler time.

The doctor was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she barely noticed when she had reached the kitchen, having been working on autopilot for the most part walking there. “I’ll take care of dinner,” she announced, waving her hand slightly to give her friends permission to walk to the many tables in the largely empty room and spend more time socializing. None of them seemed to mind that - Fareeha even declared that she was an angel and smooched her cheek as they walked off.

She opened the comically large fridge in the kitchen, and was pleasantly surprised that Lena had been smart enough to pick up actual cooking ingredients instead of exclusively junk food. That Emily girl was probably good for her, if this was all she was going to go by. Angela gathered a package of chicken breasts and several veggies in her arms, making the decision to make chicken noodle soup for the group - a nice comfort meal to welcome them back ‘home.’

As Angela grabbed canned broth and two packages of noodles from a pantry and started up the stove, she glanced back through the window that showed the mess hall to whoever was working in the kitchen. The huge room was still darkened - perhaps the light bulbs had long gone out and nobody had bothered to change them - illuminated only by the fluorescent light spilling out from inside of the kitchen. Lena, Emily, Fareeha, and Winston were seated at one of the tables closest to her; the former pilot was standing on top of a table, apparently deep into whatever story she was telling. Her girlfriend looked totally enraptured, but the security guard was doubled over in laughter.

The sight warmed her heart, and the doctor smiled as she began cooking dinner. She was willing to admit to herself that these people were less like friends to her, and more like family - and she was excited for Genji and Jesse to arrive so that the atmosphere would be even closer to what it was like in the glory days of Overwatch. If Zenyatta was anything like Genji had described to her in his letters, she was sure that he would only make things better.

A pang of pain ran through her chest as she realized that there were some members of the fallen organization that she had no hope of ever seeing again - friends that had fallen shortly before Overwatch had gotten shut down. Ana Amari, Jack Morrison… Gabriel Reyes, who was not dead, but might as well have been for what he’d become. He was the only friend that she ever  _ regretted _ saving…

But that was a thought for another time, and for the moment, Angela wanted to just focus on making dinner and spending time with her friends.

She failed to notice a long haired figure standing atop one of the watchpoint’s buildings, watching her through a window before jumping down and vanishing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Widowmaker, Sombra, and Reaper, stage left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> srry it took a while i just got a new job so im a tired baby
> 
> widow and sombra are friends i promise

The Talon counsel sat at a circular table, almost comically similar to comic book villains, but that was the last thing on Widowmaker’s mind as she walked into the meeting room with Sombra at her side. Reaper was the only one present, and she was not sure that he ever even left. He seemed to notice the two women enter, though, because he turned his head slowly, dramatically; Widowmaker was certain that everything that he ever did was just to be as dramatic as possible. “Did you find anything?” the reaper asked in a gravelly tone that barely betrayed any sort of curiosity whatsoever.

“Yes,” Widowmaker affirmed, glancing at a chair and considering sitting down, but deciding against it when she remembered that even occupying a council member’s seat was grounds for punishment.  _ Harsh _ punishment. It showed free will, and if they reached hard enough, disrespect, and she didn’t feel like going through any more reconditioning when it wasn’t completely necessary - it was a waste of time when her emotions weren’t acting up again. “Angela Ziegler, Fareeha Amari, Lena Oxton, Winston, and a woman I did not recognize but who seems to be in a romantic relationship with Oxton. They have all gathered at Watchpoint: Gibraltar, and Sombra picked up audio that seems to suggest that they’re planning on recalling Overwatch.”

“I could only get ahold of what they were saying in the cafeteria. There were complex firewalls blocking me from hacking into the main meeting room’s systems. I’m sure I could get through them if I had more time, but we needed to make sure that we got as much information as possible, and that meant moving forward quickly.” Sombra sounded bored, and Widowmaker supposed that must have been because she was talking about official business and not teasing somebody. She was almost as afraid of Talon’s leaders as her coworker was, though she masked that with her insufferable confidence. 

“Can you play back the audio?” the Reaper asked, now sounding a bit more interested as he leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table in front of him. Sombra nodded, pulling her translucent screen out and clicking a few keys with her long fingernails before pulling up the information she needed; it displayed in the form of a ‘play’ button. She turned the screen towards Reaper, and allowed him to roughly press on it, though Sombra grimaced slightly at the unnecessary amount of pressure he put onto her precious technology.

Widowmaker could almost feel the enthusiasm of having Overwatch’s remaining members right where he wanted them spilling off of Reaper, but that quickly faded as all the faint audio that was picked up was simply the ‘friends’ catching up on where they had been the last several years. Presumably, nobody had been present to keep them on track of thinking about how they were supposed to recall the organization - all of that had been discussed in the meeting room, where Sombra had been unable to get audio. Of course, any information was worthwhile, even if it was in passing like this.

Nobody seemed to have told Reaper that, though, because he lost his temper fairly quickly. His rage was a quiet one, a calm one, which was somehow even more frightening than someone blowing up in an explosion of rage. He clenched his fist, and pushed Sombra’s screen away, prompting her to close her fist around it and make it disappear before she glanced over at Widowmaker questioningly. The assassin did not respond, simply giving her coworker a quiet look out of the corner of her eye before looking back over at the ghost of a man, waiting for him to do something.

“We commanded you two to get actual information, not a recording of a conversation between allies. The knowledge that they’re meeting at the old watchpoint is useful, but the rest of this is not,” he spoke in a growl, and rose to his feet, arms crossed over his chest. “Go back to Gibraltar. Sombra, get through firewalls in the necessary areas of the watchpoint. You care not to return to base until you have enough intelligence to lead an attack. Widowmaker, go with her. She’s going to need the supervision.”

If Widowmaker was more likely to show emotion, she would have sighed heavily or rolled her eyes/ For the moment, however, she simply gave a serious nod, and turned on her heel in order to leave the meeting room and begin heading to the hangar to board another plane to Spain. Knowing Reaper, he probably had somebody there already, just in case the decision was made to return. Sombra, on the other hand, looked like she was going to argue, but decided better of it and followed closely behind the assassin. “I got what I could,” she griped, and Widowmaker was sure that if she had pockets she would have shoved her hands into them to sulk.

“You have been spoiled by your luck,” the Frenchwoman spoke in a cool, calm tone, not bothering to look at the hacker as she walked. “Most of the information you get is from a comfortable computer off to the side. When you are getting intelligence in the field, a lot of the time people will be more careful of what they say. Not as much privacy. Possibility of others overhearing or listening in.” She opened the heavy doors to the hangar with strength that surprised most, and looked around before seeing an agent dressed in black and waving them over.

“I’m not  _ lucky. _ I’m a hard worker,” Sombra responded in a defensive tone, and this time Widowmaker did not hesitate in rolling her eyes. “I’m going to get into those firewalls, and we’re going to collect some more useful information this time. Would you mind sticking by the opposite end of the building from me to do surveillance and make sure that the technology is picking up audio?”

“I will take any opportunity to get away from you,” Widowmaker replied dryly as she climbed onto the plane, reaching a hand down to help the shorter woman up as the door closed.

* * *

 

After dinner, Angela headed off to the old quarters to go to bed, and Fareeha followed her like a loyal puppy. Lena made an inappropriate comment about why they must have wanted to leave together, and Angela had tossed a piece of bread on her with a bright pink face and shouted something about jet lag being very much an issue before she sped away from the mess hall. To tell the truth, though she was amused, the former pilot hadn’t really thought they were going to do the nasty until that reaction.

“I think I’m going to head off to bed as well,” Winston announced, pulling himself up onto his front hands and giving Lena and Emily a bright smile. “I’m so grateful that you two are helping me get the gang back together. I really think that we’re going to be able to do good in the world again, and it’s going to be pretty hard to get our act together, but I can’t wait.” He looked so happy, and his excitement rubbed off on the former pilot, her heart soaring like a bird. Free and elated.

“Don’t get all sappy on me yet, big guy!” Lena laughed a little, standing atop the bench of the table in order to lightly ruffle the fur atop Winston’s head. “We still have a lot of work to do. Remember your thing when you kept trying to get me to set short term goals before my long term ones? Maybe you should follow your own advice, huh?” She was working on trying to be more down to earth, on Emily’s advice. Normally, she was happy to be a dreamer, to be optimistic - but if Winston was letting himself get carried away into his hopes, then  _ somebody _ definitely needed to keep calm.

The gorilla chuckled and shook his head, and then lifted himself up with his hands to stand. “Whatever you say,” he said with a salute, and then backed away from the table. “Goodnight, Lena and Emily. We’re going to have to wake up bright and early in the morning to try and get more communicators to respond. I’ll probably get Angela and Fareeha before you, though, so you might end up sleeping in.” He then lumbered off out of the cafeteria - probably to the control room, which was more like his bedroom than anything else in the watchpoint.

The mess hall was quieter, then. Almost too quiet. Lena barely noticed her hand sliding over to hold onto Emily’s, and the redhead turned her head to give her a confused look before lightly squeezing. Now that the former Overwatch agent thought about it, she wasn’t sure that she had ever seen the room like this; quiet and abandoned with only a couple of souls still awake, the lights out and tall shadows stretching upon the walls that looked grey against the dim lighting. Having more of her friends around had made the place feel more alive, but now she was getting a sense of just how abandoned the former Overwatch base was. Of how dead the organization was.

She had so many good memories here, but most of them were filled with background noise and with bright lights keeping the building alive. Now, most of the former agents were mercenaries or vigilantes or God only knows what else. Some were even dead. Lena could almost feel the ghosts of the past creeping up on her to tell her that this was allh hopeless.

Her girlfriend must have noticed her dropping mood, because she gave her hand another gentle squeeze and rose to her feet. “Maybe we should get some sleep, too, darling,” she announced in a sweet voice, and Lena nodded before she got up as well. “I don’t know shit about how this place is laid out, so how about you show me the way to where we’re going to be sleeping?” She voiced it like a suggestion, but the former agent knew that they would be sleeping in the hangar or something if she didn’t, so she let out an uneasy laugh and began leading her girlfriend out of the cafeteria.

* * *

 

Widowmaker did not experience boredom very often, but now that she was standing outside of the abandoned watchpoint and staring at Sombra as she planted bugs into the walls, she was bored out of her mind. These were powerful enough to permeate the brick and plaster, and not a lot of hacking was really needed on this side of the building, so it was decided that she would handle this first. That didn’t mean that it was interesting to watch - unless you found watching your coworker kneeling in front of a brick wall in a position that looked painful and wasn’t at all attractive fun.

If she slept more often, she would probably be dozing off, but as it stood she could get by with far less than a normal human person. Widowmaker was, for all intents and purposes, not really human at all. She did not need to eat as much, sleep as much, rest as much - the only thing she truly needed to do was keep herself hydrated. A weaker assassin would have zoned out; but the widowmaker could see movement on the other side of the window out of the corner of one eye.

She immediately ducked, signalling for Sombra to keep down as the hacker quickly pressed the record button on the bug. Widowmaker watched in silence as the tops of two heads walked across the window, and then remained in silence for several moments - she had done enough surveillance to recognize the mess of Lena Oxton’s hair and the well kempt smoothness of her girlfriend’s.

A pang of what was almost jealousy rang through her chest. Or at least, if she experienced emotion, she would think it was jealousy. 

“I think they’re gone now,  _ araña,” _ Sombra hissed as she rose to her feet, and Widowmaker nodded before following suit. They had a lot of ground to cover before daylight. She couldn’t afford to focus on such petty things.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji and Zenyatta arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW IT'S BEEN ALMOST THREE MONTHS. i know. but this fic means a lot to me, so i decided to continue it.

When Angela awoke, the world outside of the small windows of the quarters was still dark, a myriad of stars overhead twinkling in the absence of light pollution - the town of Gibraltar was a twenty minute drive (or, in the case of Fareeha and herself, a fifteen minute flight) away, and a vast majority of the watchpoint wasn’t powered and had a sparse amount of hot water with the exception of the room Winston called home and the kitchen, both thanks mostly to Athena. Her girlfriend was sound asleep beside her, mouth open slightly and soft breaths escaping from between her lips, and the doctor felt at ease in the quiet and the sense that she was back home. So instead of getting out of bed with a sense of urgency, she instead remained where she was for some time, her limbs tangled with Fareeha’s and her blue gaze settled up through the miniscule window, admiring the twinkling masterpiece of the night sky.

Eventually, though, she did need to get moving, but the last thing in the world she wanted to do was wake the soundly sleeping security guard beside her. Luckily, she happened to know that the Egyptian was a very,  _ very _ heavy sleeper - she had witnessed Fareeha snooze through actual gunfire before, when she used to visit her mother at this very building - so Angela needed only the slightest amount of planning and care to untangle her naked limbs from her girlfriend’s and roll out of the bed. (The sleeping quarters at the base were surprisingly comfortable; you wouldn’t expect them to be, given how this was a military organization and all, but the mattresses were soft and the blankets warm.)

The doctor reached for her luggage, and holding her phone above her head to use as a flashlight, she fished out the comfortable white robe that she wore on the mornings where she could experience some form of luxury. She didn’t especially feel like digging up any underwear before she showered, especially considering she felt dirty and disgusting after not doing so the day before, so she opted for just wrapping the robe around her fit body and stuffing a roll of clothes she didn’t bother to much under her arm before making her way down to the showers. Knowing the other people in the base, she would be the only one awake at least until Fareeha moved at sunrise.

Still fairly sleepy and not trusting her memory after six years as much as she did while awake, Angela kept the flashlight of her phone on as she exited the room and began walking down the hallway of the quarters towards the community showers. She yawned, one hand over her mouth, and only kept the minimal amount of awareness in her mind, knowing and trusting this place as much as she did.

If she had been just a little more cautious and observant, then she might have noticed the figure standing on the opposite end of the hallway and watching her, but as it stood she barely could notice anything happening right in front of her, let alone a thousand yards behind.

* * *

 

The hallway was still quiet when Angela stepped out of the community showers, shivering slightly in the cold of the early morning now that the last of the leftover warmth from sleeping was gone and replaced by cooling water. She rubbed the pale skin of her arms, scolding herself quietly for deciding to grab a t-shirt, and began walking back to the room she shared with Fareeha to try and find a sweater (if she even owned any besides that damned turtleneck, why did she decide to be a first responder in the  _ Middle East _ for fuck’s sake) - but before she had even taken a few steps, the sound of somebody walking behind her. Her heart began thudding a little faster in her chest, but she silently explained it to herself as somebody else having woken up and gotten started on their day.

If that was the case, though, why hadn’t they spoken up when they saw her to say good morning? That was something in character for the other doctors and nurses she’d been working with, but… not for anybody that was currently in the watchpoint. It certainly didn’t help much that the footsteps sounded unlike anybody that was there.

Still vaguely familiar, though…

Angela stopped walking, and turned around slowly, not wanting to be taken by surprise if she was going to be attacked. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she froze ever so slightly when she saw the shape of a thin and lean man, familiar red-brown eyes watching her and making it clear that he was smiling because of the way that his mouth was covered. She recognized the scars that covered his face, the way that he stood, and the expression on what remained of his face - he couldn’t be forgotten.

“You seem well, Genji,” was the first thing that she thought to say, feeling herself relax as she looked into the eyes of her old friend. He seemed to hesitate for just a moment, and then stepped forward to gently wrap his arms around her. It was a little awkward - there was once bad blood between them, and much more history more complex than that - but it was comforting nonetheless. She didn’t wait before giving him a careful hug back, resting her chin on his shoulder despite feeling a little silly because of her wet hair and inappropriate choice of clothing for the weather.

“I am a different man now,” he responded, the weight behind his words and the wisdom they clearly came from reflecting the tone of his letters and so different from the angry man he had been the last they met in person. “I am whole.” She could tell that the rage that had so consumed him during his time working for Blackwatch had faded away, and was replaced by a peace that Angela could only envy. Genji was so different, but at the same time much the same; the kind person she always saw and felt beneath the rage was clear now.

She pulled away after hugging him close for a while, swiping some wet blonde hair behind her ear and smiling brightly. “You could have told me that it was you, you know,” she spoke in a jokingly stern tone, “you frightened me, stalking up behind me like a murderer. Shame on you.” Soon after the last word left her lips, though, she remembered - if someone thought there was an intruder, it was unlikely that anything other than panic would ensue. There weren’t nearly as many people here anymore, and absolutely no good security - it would be _ worryingly _ easy for someone with ill intent to get inside. “Does Winston know you’re here, or did you just decide to scare me in the hallway before anything else?”

“He was actually the first person I talked to when I arrived. He’s in the kitchen, making some coffee.” Genji took a step back from Angela, looking her up and down as if examining or memorizing what she looked like after six years away from Overwatch and without seeing one another in purpose. Not that she could blame him; she knew she didn’t look all that much different - maybe a little less tired and overworked - but  _ he _ certainly did, now with shining silver metal covering his body and a much more relaxed demeanor about him. “Oh, that reminds me, my master is there as well. I think you would get along with him.”

Ah - that’s right. She remembered him mentioning the help of an omnic monk in Nepal to help him get back on his feet and find inner peace again. Tekharta Zenyatta, she thought his name was. “I’ll come down to the kitchen soon, then. I was just going to get a sweater and wake up Fareeha before getting started on the day.” The mention of the warm clothes she so wanted was enough to make her remember the chilled air, and she couldn’t help but wrap her arms back around herself, rubbing at the goosebumped skin of her arms. “Actually, it might be best if we all get moving pretty soon. It should be sunrise soon, I think, and God knows we have a lot of work to do around the building and in trying to test out what equipment is left in the watchpoint. Lena and her girlfriend are in one of the rooms close to the entrance of the hallway, would you mind waking them up?”

“Definitely,” Genji agreed with a nod, his eyes continuing to smile. He turned very quickly afterward, and began walking down in the direction where Angela had pointed her. She watched him go for just a moment, before she turned on her heel and began to make her way back to the room she shared with Fareeha.

Her doubts about bringing Overwatch were beginning to fade ever so slightly. The only ones that had responded to the call so far were those who brought life to the organization even in the darkest of times, when life just seemed to be an endless stream of demands to abandon her ethics system and reporters bothering her with questions about the accusations of corruption.

What seemed like a bad idea before didn’t seem to be one as much anymore. Whether or not that would last, though, depended on whether things stayed that way.

* * *

 

Angela wasn’t all that surprised when she and Fareeha were the last ones to arrive in the kitchen. Lena was always one to be punctual, if not excessively early, and Emily seemed willing to just go along with it. A quick survey of the kitchen showed her Winston and Emily chatting over coffee, Lena excitedly rambling something to Genji, and an omnic she hadn’t seen before standing off to the side - his lack of facial features not doing much to hide the amusement he seemed to radiate. She chose to just get herself a cup of coffee before even trying to talk to anyone; she wasn’t especially tired, but after years of having a cup every morning, the idea of skipping one just felt wrong.

She was unaware that she was being approached, just watching the dark liquid fill the mug she grabbed from the cupboard, until a voice sounded from behind her and startled her. “You must be Dr. Ziegler. Genji had told me much about you.”

The doctor turned her head slightly to find that the omnic had approached behind her, and she gave him a small smile. Angela set down her mug, not wanting to be rude by focusing more on that than on someone she hadn’t met before. “Yes, that’s me. But please, call me Angela. You must be Zenyatta.”

The omnic nodded sagely, watching her carefully. “I must thank you for saving my student’s life. I’m aware that he didn’t especially want you to at the time, and I’m aware that it must have been something you regretted at the time. But Genji has touched my life in recent years, and that would not have been possible if not for your interference.” He then paused, and looked away as if bashful. “That, ah, may be something selfish of me to say. But he has a very bright soul, and it would have been a shame for it to fade away before he could help others.”

Angela smiled softly, heart swelling ever so slightly. It was true that she regretted saving Genji for years, thought that he might have been better off dead, but to know that he was off being so much more than the weapon Overwatch meant for him to be… it was a significant comfort. “I would like to thank you for saving his soul, then. He was so angry when he was here, and he’s doing so much better now… he’s a good man, and I’m glad that he can be at peace now.”

“Oh, but my dear doctor, I only did a part of the work. So much of it was his own determination.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know that the situation with angela and genji is a sensitive subject to many. if i handled it distastefully in any way, please let me know and i'll do my best to do it better in future chapters. they're going to stay friends in my fics, though.


	6. Chapter 6

The man felt the communicator vibrate in his jacket pocket.

He ignored it.

To return to Overwatch would be a waste of his time. It would get in the way of his mission of the last nine years. It would get in the way of his attempts to save her.

Of course, there was the possibility that his old colleagues would be able to help. Would make it easier, even. But it was not a risk he was willing to take. Not after all this time - all this distress - everything he had seen her go through.

Maybe it would be best to abandon his hope.

He did not give up that easily, though.

* * *

 

Breakfast was Emily’s duty, since Angela had cooked the night before; Lena didn’t mind at all, knowing that her girlfriend was particularly great at breakfast foods, and was more than willing to eat up several servings of whatever the redhead was making (and, honestly, probably more than that later, if you catch her drift). 

After the food was eaten, though, it was time again to talk about the business side of things. She wouldn’t have argued with having many conversations with her friends, but honestly, they couldn’t just spend weeks upon weeks catching up if the whole reason behind the recall was the threat of a second omnic crisis hovering over the horizon.

“London seems to be the area with the most activity from Talon, other extremist groups, and omnics themselves. It might be a good idea to start there, but I’m not entirely sure how we can do that,” Winston spoke first, pushing his glasses up as a screen above them flickered to life, displaying Athena’s icon for just a moment before fading to a news channel. Sure enough, the brunette news reporter there was talking about a recent fight that had broken up in King’s Row.

Just blocks away from the apartment she shared with Emily. She swallowed slightly, and glanced to her girlfriend to find that she had gone a little pale. “If that much is goin’ on, I’d feel better if I was the one going to stake things out. I know King’s Row better than anyone else here.” It was a poorer area of London that, despite its proximity to Big Ben and the attempts of several hotels to look fancy, was more run down than anything else. She’d grown up there. Even if Emily lived there as well, she hadn’t been raised in the streets of the area; Glasgow was a fair way away, after all.

“I’d be okay with sending you there, but we can’t just send an agent there with no mission or idea of where to begin investigating. I don’t think we can track down where the gangs behind all of this will strike next, unless you feel like sticking around the omnium for days on end,” Winston responded, a small frown upon his face as he kept his attention to the screen. “If we had some kind of lead, we could do it…”

The gorilla was interrupted by the sound of Zenyatta clearing his nonexistent throat. Everyone in the room turned to face him, a little surprised by his speaking up - Nepal was across the world from England, and it seemed unlikely that the Shambali had any access to what was going on there. “My brother Mondatta has been planning on giving a speech there. As much as it saddens me to consider it, perhaps that would be a magnet for some kind of activity?” He seemed calm speaking, hands pressed together in front of him - he had little reaction when Genji set a hand on his shoulder.

“They’ll probably have a lot of security around him, though, right? Mondatta’s kind of a big deal. The whole symbol of peace between omnics and humans. I doubt they’d let him expose himself completely in a high risk area.” Emily sounded less sure than her words implied. More nervous than anything. Lena didn’t notice that she was reaching for her hand until it was in her lap, but she wasted little time in gently intertwining her fingers with her girlfriend’s and giving a gentle squeeze. “He’ll probably be as protected as a president or something. There might be little point.”

“I have reason to believe that Talon is at least partially behind some of what’s been happening around the world. I’d love to trust Mondatta’s security, but all the guards in the world could do little to protect someone if a Talon agent was sent to kill them.” Winston sighed heavily, sadly. “Heck, the guard could even be in their control. They’ve gained a lot of power in recent years - too much, if I’m being honest with you. We can’t just be sure that someone’s going to be safe, especially if everyone in that mess of an organization shares Doomfist’s philosophy.”

“Then I’ll go to his speech!” Lena announced, pressing her hands against the table and pushing herself into a standing position. “I’ll make sure that he’s kept safe, and I’ll tell you if anything happens. If any Talon arseholes decide to show up.” Just the idea of Mondatta being hurt was enough to make her blood boil, and she was willing to face the people who worked underneath the only person ever to break her chronal accelerator, she was willing to do anything to try and keep him safe.

The leader of the Shambali was a genuinely good person. He just wanted equality for his people, peace between the two species that controlled the world. His views were… radical, to be certain… but he had done absolutely nothing deserving of being harmed. He was a peaceful monk, whose words could touch anyone, even those who might not have necessarily agreed with everything he said. Lena was willing to put her own life on the line to protect him if it came down to it, which she figured it might if she remembered anything at all from having to deal with Talon a few times.

Winston seemed to hesitate for just a moment, and then nodded in agreement. “Alright - but I don’t want you going alone, in case something happens to you. If you were to get hurt… I don’t know what we would do. What  _ I _ would do.”

“Fareeha and I will accompany her,” Angela cut in suddenly, her gaze snapping up to the gorilla from her coffee mug. “If she gets hurt, I’ll be able to at least soothe the wounds, and Fareeha can lift us out or serve as backup.” She swiped her hair behind her ear, blue eyes surprisingly intense for someone who was apparently hesitant to even return to the watchpoint. “That way, a majority of us are still at the watchpoint while Lena has two people just in case.”

The scientist nodded. “That could work. As long as we can find out where exactly the speech is going to be, we should be fine. But I don’t want either of you to intervene unless it’s an emergency and Lena is unable to handle things on her own. We don’t need for  _ anyone _ to figure out that we’re trying to bring Overwatch back - not until we’re bigger in numbers, anyway. I think it’d be easier to punish…,” he paused, doing a quick count of everyone in the room, “seven people than a couple dozen.”

“Fair,” Fareeha responded with a nod, glancing over at Lena. Angela thought she could handle that, now hardened and knowing she couldn’t rush in at the risk of herself or something bigger to help one person. Her girlfriend, on the other hand, had evolved past the idea of the mission being more important than the man, and the doctor worried that she would rush into danger all too quickly and throw everyone into some sort of trouble.

But if she didn’t trust the younger woman, she would have asked if Genji could accompany her instead. Lena would keep things under control; she may be the youngest one present aside from Zenyatta, but she was mature and smart past what she let herself reveal. She’d learned; from the Slipstream incident, the King’s Row Uprising, the fall of Overwatch, and so much more.Angela often joked about not even wanting the former pilot to carry a glass for her, but in reality, she was more than willing to put her life in Lena’s hands if she really needed to.

“Do we have individual communications working?” Zenyatta asked, hands folded together in front of his chest and his head tilted ever so slightly to the side as he faced Winston. “If we do, then we most likely could create a way for Angela to communicate with Lena about changes in my brother’s positioning. The speech is not until a week from now, but it is probably best if we get started on fixing it soon if not. Better safe than sorry.” He glanced over at the screen, now displaying only Athena’s symbol, as if lost in thought.

“Obviously, all of the communicators are working just fine. I could get into contact easily with most of the former agents of Overwatch and Blackwatch. I don’t know if individual channels are working besides just the general one, though. I haven’t really had time to check, considering you guys all came so quickly after I recalled.” Winston then rose to his feet (and hands), reaching for the counter and grabbing hold of a comm that was resting there until needed. Almost in an automatic impulse, Lena reached for the one she was keeping in her hoodie pocket, wrapping her hands around the smooth plastic as if it was a comfort blanket that she needed to keep close to sleep at night.

Which wasn’t all that far from the truth, really.

“Maybe we should check and make sure all channels are functioning before we do anything else. I know we would all love to help Mondatta as much as possible, but what good would it be if we don’t even have a way to reach one another?” Genji spoke for what must have been the first time since breakfast began, tapping his fingers against the table idly. “I think the only one that is not necessary is the Blackwatch channel. If our plan is to recreate Overwatch greater than before, a shady division most likely is not the best route to go through.”

“We can probably get started on that today. Athena and I will work on it in my room. I’ll have her get you if I need anyone to physically help,” Winston’s words were much more confident now, and a smile was teasing at the corners of his mouth. “In the meantime, you six probably ought to come up with some sort of plan. I think it would make the most sense for Genji, Zenyatta, and Emily to stay here with me during the mission. Emily and Zenyatta don’t exactly have much training, and we can’t send all but one of our agents off to England. It would look too suspicious.”

“The only problem I can really see is how you guys are going to get there,” Emily piped up. She was playing with her hair using her free hand, a surefire sign that she was nervous - Lena wanted to reach over and take hold of that one too, explain that she knew what she was doing and this wasn’t the first time she was going on a solo mission that might be dangerous, that Angela and Fareeha wouldn’t let anything happen to her - but it was probably best to save that for when they were alone. “Lena’s not going to fly a plane again, I know that much, and Fareeha can’t exactly carry all three of them everywhere.”

“I have some experience flying smaller aircrafts. As long as there’s something reasonably sized around here, I’ll be able to get us there without crashing,” Fareeha glanced at Winston, who gave her a small nod of confirmation. “We can come up with a more detailed plan. We have an entire week to do it, after all.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mondatta is dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOD i'm so sorry it's been so long. i've had really bad writer's block for a really long time now. however, now i'm planning on updating this fic once a week - saturdays are the ones on my planner, but it could be on friday like it was this week. thanks for your patience.

“I got  _ useful _ information this time!”

Sombra would normally be a bit more toned down when she was actually trying to be professional instead of teasing anyone who crossed her path, but today, she was eager to rub it in Gabe’s - or  _ Reaper’s, _ rather - face that she wasn’t just gathering the conversations of friends this time. Widowmaker was nearby, her arms crossed over her chest, and the hacker could feel the annoyance just radiating off of her. For someone who was supposed to have no emotions whatsoever, she sure got irritated by a lot of things, but that was a problem for Dr. O’Deorain, not her.

Reaper’s face was covered by a mask, but he didn’t need an expression for Sombra to tell that he was glaring daggers at her for being so disruptive. That wasn’t really something she cared about at the moment, though, to be honest. Getting information was something that was exciting for her, no matter how little the information was, or how little it affected her. She doubted that she would have even started hacking for information in the first place if she wasn’t interested in any knowledge she could get her hands on. “Show it to me, then,” he spoke flatly.

She pulled out her screen, feeling the familiar rush of seeing all that information right at her fingertips, and located the audio file of Overwatch’s limited numbers discussing the speech that Tekharta Mondatta was supposed to give in King’s Row soon. Reaper gestured for Widowmaker to leave the room - she wasn’t trusted by any of Talon’s council, considering her background and the reasoning behind her being in Talon - and as soon as she obeyed, he nodded at the hacker, who began talking quickly. “Genji Shimada and Tekharta Zenyatta arrived at Watchpoint: Gibraltar very early this morning. At sunrise, all seven current members and affiliates of Overwatch met in the kitchen to have coffee, and discussed where they could begin in terms of getting around and making some sort of a difference.”

“Typical,” Reaper scoffed, and Sombra paused for a moment, worried that he was interrupting her. He seemed to just be commentating to himself, though - which was understandable, given that after giving everything to Overwatch and Blackwatch and having it all backfire in his face (literally), he couldn’t be blamed for being a little bitter and sarcastic now that it was back. Sombra gave him a moment to think, and then began recounting the information once again.

“Zenyatta brought up the speech that Mondatta is going to give in London next week, and it was decided that Tracer would be sent to make sure that he is kept safe while Mercy and Pharah hover nearby as backup.” She didn’t hesitate in using callsigns, seeing very little point in using actual names when not discussing civilians. And they were far from civilians now. Criminals, even. “They haven’t made an entire plan quite yet, as Winston needs to get around to fixing up equipment, but I should be able to make it back there in time to study their patterns and overhear their plans.”

Reaper made a gravelly and grumbling sound that Sombra knew meant he was thinking, and then he stood. “Alright. I will have to discuss it with the council, but it’s been in the cards for Mondatta to die for a long time anyway,” he began, drumming the sharp edges of his nails against the dark wood of the table. “It would be a good test to make sure Widowmaker’s reconditioning is strong. Go back to the watchpoint, but go alone. Update me if anything changes. Talon is going to have to make another move.”

Sombra nodded seriously, and closed her hand, allowing the projected screen to dissolve. Reaper nodded at her, and she took that as her queue to leave, turning quickly on her heel and leaving the room. She had to admit, she hadn’t been expecting that to be the course of action that Reaper was going to take - she remembered reading in great detail about his admiration for Mondatta before the fall of Overwatch, and she had to admit, she didn’t especially want the omnic rights leader to die, either.

She had a job to do, though, and damn if she wasn’t going to do it well. Talon was far from her endgame plan, and it was true that she was only there for information, but she wanted to keep up appearances so that she would have all the time she possibly could. Even so, the quiet part of her brain that would still choose her morality over her own personal needs and goals was telling her that it was wrong to contribute to the death of someone completely innocent and potentially throw Widowmaker under the bus if her information didn’t pan out.

She ignored that part of her. All she needed to do was focus on the code, on the numbers, and remind herself that everything she did for Talon brought her a little bit closer to solving the massive web of facts, lies, and conspiracies that spanned over the entire globe. Everything she did for this organization, no matter how much she hated doing it, brought her just that little bit closer to finally getting into the massive sea of information hidden behind the most advanced systems she had ever seen, and finally learning everything that Talon had to hide.

That alone was worth sacrificing the life of one omnic and a bit more of the sanity of one woman. She was doing this for the greater good - if not for the world’s, then for her own.

* * *

 

They say that the best laid plans often to go waste. Fareeha didn’t know if that applied here - the plan was a dodgy one in the making - but even so, she hadn’t really been expecting tonight to end like this - and she couldn’t help but wish that she had only intervened sooner, did something to prevent the worst possible outcome to happen. Because now Mondatta was dead, his skull sparking as he lay on the floor of his limousine, and Lena… Lena was  _ flickering. _ Fareea had never seen anything like this before, her friend’s petite form flickering with a bright blue light, almost like a television with bad reception. She wished she could dart forward and do something to help, but all she could really do was stare in horror as Angela glided up to the rooftop and rushed to the former pilot’s side.

She seemed to know what was going on, at least, because she quickly supported Lena’s head with one arm and rested her hand on the chronal accelerator attached to her chest. “I can’t do anything about this,” she spoke, her voice calm but urgent. “We need to get her back to Winston. He’s the only one that can fix her accelerator. We… we don’t have all the equipment we used to, but I’m sure he can do it… he has to be able to do it.”

“What’s wrong with her?” was all Fareeha could manage to get out, reaching to lift Lena in her arms and carry her back to the dropship. She was very, very ready to book it all the way back and make it to Gibraltar again with plenty of time to spare even without being told. She was not exactly a doctor or a mechanic, but she knew that  _ flickering in and out of existence _ was a bad symptom.

“Her chronal accelerator is damaged. It isn’t fatal, exactly, but she can’t stay tethered to reality. I don’t know if anyone told you about what happened directly after the Slipstream crashed, but… but Lena became something of a living ghost, and she’s going to revert back to that if Winston can’t fix this.” She pulled out her caduceus staff and trained it on Lena, a yellow beam attaching to the petite girl and apparently soothing her pain and panic considering how her flickering slowed and she went a little limp in Fareeha’s arms. “Come on, let’s go.”

The head of security nodded, and immediately rocketed up in the sky with much less caution than she had showed on the way in. Luckily, the chaos down below probably provided enough cover for the two women gliding through the sky with a third flickering with bright blue light. The dropship wasn’t terribly far away from the building that Lena had been retrieved from, so Fareeha wasn’t terribly concerned about running out of fuel before they could make it back.

“F… Fareeha…” the panicked Lena in her arms suddenly spoke up, staring up at her with wide eyes. “Fareeha - Mondatta - I failed -- I…” Her breathing started to pick up, and Fareeha’s heart skipped a beat. She may not have known much about chronal disassociation, but she did know the signs of a panic attack beginning, and she doubted that would do much to improve her condition. “I… I couldn’t keep him safe… Widowmaker… she…” Lena could hardly speak through shaking breaths, and it wasn’t terribly hard for Fareeha to figure out that she really, really needed to try and keep her calm.

“It’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself, and don’t panic, okay?” She spoke as softly as she could manage over the wind of their flight and the panic for her friend in her chest. “It’s going to be okay. Mondatta was just the voice of a bigger belief that spans across so many people, and - and there wasn’t really anything that you could have done besides what you already did. It’s going to be okay.” God, she wasn’t very good at this, but she prayed that she was doing good enough. Angela was so much better at being comforting and calming panicked people down. Why couldn’t she be the physically stronger one, too? Why did Fareeha have to be the one handling this? She couldn’t bring herself to complain, though, just continuing to move forward through the air.

Lena didn’t seem all that comforted, but she did go silent and relax. A wave of anxiety rushed over Fareeha, but she kept on flying until she could see the dropship on the ground in what used to be the landing yard for a small London safehouse. Angela took the lead then, rushing into the ship with Fareeha close on her heels, quickly climbing into the small aircraft and putting Lena down on the ground - god, she wished there was somewhere more comfortable for her - and practically flew over to the cockpit in order to lift off and head back to Gibraltar.

Angela stayed back with Lena, and although Fareeha couldn’t make out the words she could hear her girlfriend’s calm voice trying to comfort the youngest of the three of them. She tried to focus more on flying than what could possibly go wrong - Angela did say that Lena couldn’t stay tethered to reality when her chronal disassociation was acting up, and she had said that Winston didn’t have all of the state of the art equipment anymore that had been used the first few times the accelerator needed to be fixed.

Her mind was probably just running haywire - Fareeha knew that much. Years of anxiety - anxiety that had been so easy to trigger since her mother’s death - taught her that, almost all of the time, when it was acting up it was probably all going to be okay.

The fact that she couldn’t understand any of this, though, certainly added to the worry that already existed when she reminded herself that Lena was in danger at the moment. She was wound up tight enough that a gentle hand placed on her shoulder was enough to make her jump, the plane jerking slightly when she absentmindedly moved her hands.

“I know that look. You’re thinking too much again,” Angela spoke softly, and just the sound of her voice was enough to calm Fareeha slightly. “It’s going to be okay. Myself and Winston were the ones to work with her the most when this first started happening, and we’re both around to help her now.”

She was right, and Fareeha knew it, so she nodded.

Nothing could ease the worry in her chest, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been spending so much time planning this fic - please please please leave a comment telling me you're enjoying.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree returns to the base, and Angela is overworking herself again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i'm lapi and i am obsessed with my own fic please help me,,

There were things that McCree expected walking back on the Gibraltar base. A warm welcome, hopefully; a lot of friendly vibes, definitely. He had hyped his return in his head for a while, knowing full well that he would be getting there to his old friends. So it was a little jarring to walk into the side of the building he’d been instructed to make his way to and find complete chaos, Dr. Angela Ziegler rushing around the halls with Fareeha Amari on her heels, tapping away at her tablet, as a redhead he didn’t know paced around one particular room with an omnic he assumed to be Zenyatta trying to talk to her.

He could only glance around the room for a moment, observe the absolute chaos that had overtaken the base, until he was startled by a hand on his shoulder. McCree turned around quickly and his eyes met with that of Genji Shimada, the angry cyborg he once worked with and hadn’t seen in years. Well - angry seemed to be something of a stretch now; the look in his eyes was much more peaceful, and his expression was much gentler.  _ What universe did I wake up in, _ the American thought to himself before he spoke aloud. “What in God’s name is going on?”

“You picked a good time to come back,” the cyborg commented in a joking tone, glancing back to the madness. “Ah… Lena went on a mission to Kings’ Row, and her chronal accelerator was damaged. Winston is working on fixing it, and Angela is running back and forth from the med bay to find all the files on her case that were left behind when the base was abandoned. I am certain that he has it under control, we just do not have all of the equipment, so… everyone is a bit nervous.”

“I see.” He trusted Winston’s skills, of course, but a small spark of worry for the former pilot made its way in his mind nonetheless. He would ignore it for now, though - he might as well be the calm and down to earth one like he normally was, right? “I… think I heard about something happening in Kings Row last night, actually. I didn’t really listen in that much, though. Mind fillin’ me in?” If Overwatch had already stepped its way out into the limelight, he was… going to be a little more concerned than he had been before. He didn’t feel like getting arrested already.

Genji made a small noise of discomfort then, and looked away. McCree glanced over to him, and spotted a slightly sadder expression upon his face - damn it, his lack of social graces may have gotten him in trouble again. “The mission was to keep Mondatta safe while he was giving a speech in front of the Meridian. Unfortunately, he was shot down shortly before Lena was compromised.” McCree put a hand on the cyborg’s shoulder as he spoke - he didn’t know much about what Genji had been up to, but he knew that the Shambali had been instrumental in his mental recovery. The news of Mondatta’s death saddened him, sure - he’d have to be an insensitive piece of shit to  _ not _ be emotionally affected by the assassination of one of the world’s greatest spokespeople (robots?) for peace - but he couldn’t even imagine what Genji was feeling.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” was all he could think to say, gently patting his back. He wasn’t… the best at emotional depth, and that was something he regretted at moments like this - maybe changing the subject was just the best direction to go in. “Why don’t you fill me in on anything else I missed?”

* * *

 

Well into the afternoon, Lena was stabilized, and Angela could do little to mask the relief that she felt when she walked into Winston’s office to find her sleeping peacefully and no longer flickering between timelines. “We probably should give it a couple weeks before we send her back out into the field, just to make sure she’s stable. We’ll also have to keep an eye on her,” were the first words Winston spoke to her, before he swung his gigantic body back up to the computer and began searching through Overwatch’s agent database as he had a hushed conversation with Athena.

The doctor stepped over to her patient, and gently rested a hand on Lena’s forehead - no fever that she could outwardly feel without a thermometer on hand, and her breathing seemed to be steady. Angela let out a soft sigh, and walked back out towards the door, opening it and glancing around for Emily - the redhead was still pacing near the door, so it wasn’t very difficult for Angela to get her attention and nod her into the room. Lena would probably want her to be by her side, if she was conscious and could communicate her thoughts verbally.

To her surprise, though, Emily was rather quick in leaning over and giving Lena a chaste kiss on her forehead. She then moved towards Angela with her chest puffed out ever so slightly, hazel eyes steely and determined. “Dr. Ziegler,” she spoke after taking a small breath. “I finished nursing school, but I want you to train me how to be the best medic or assistant or something I can be. I want to be as helpful as I possibly can in case something like this happens again.” She glanced back to her girlfriend then, and the good doctor couldn’t help but feel a little sympathetic for the girl then.

“Well, I can’t teach you as much as med school could, and I don’t think it would be a good idea to give you a lot of responsibility. Nurses know a lot, though, so I’m sure that there’s a lot that you can do.” Angela thought out loud, before she nodded firmly. “I can teach you how to work a majority of the equipment that’s here, and I can teach you how to use the caduceus staff in case something happens to me. We can start your training tomorrow if you want.”

The redhead’s face brightened, and she moved forward to wrap her arms tightly around the doctor. Angela tensed slightly, surprised by the sudden contact, but gently patted Emily on the back nonetheless. “Thank you, Dr. Ziegler,” was all she said before she pulled away and returned to Lena’s side, this time staying there and gently wrapping her hand around her girlfriend’s. Angela sighed slightly, watching the two of them for a moment - she was glad that Lena had managed to find someone that loved her so much and was loved in return.

She wished she could go spend some time with Fareeha, but instead she sighed, sitting down in the nearest chair and opened up the file in her arms. She didn’t think before that she was going to know everything she used to about Lena’s chronal disassociation, but she thought that it would be best if she had enough information in her mind in case the repairs didn’t hold up. She picked up the cup of coffee that she had put down by the chair a little while ago, took a sip, and got ready for a long day of study.

A few hours after she began reading, Lena woke up, and she rushed over to make sure that she didn’t need anything and that she was feeling ago. The cadet waved her away before she could begin fussing, though, and within a few moments of discussing her current status, she was off blinking and zipping away with Emily chasing after her as if nothing had happened. Angela called after her to be careful with using her abilities for a little bit, sighed heavily when she realized that Lena wasn’t going to listen to her, and returned to her chair.

It certainly appeared that she was doing better - but hell if it wasn’t a good idea to be prepared in case things got better before they got worse.

* * *

 

It was late at night when Angela finally stepped out of Winston’s office. She finally gave Jesse a hug when she walked past him on the way to the quarters she shared with Fareeha, they had a brief conversation about what the two had been up to in recent years, and was about ready to pass out when she finally pushed the door to their quarters open and shrugged off her jacket.

She collapsed onto the bed with her face in her hands, and barely noticed when Fareeha climbed into bed after her and pulled her close to her warm, strong body. Angela sighed, content to be next to her lover, and shuffled a little bit closer to her. It registered in her mind when her girlfriend hooked a thumb into the belt buckle of her jeans to pull them down, and she wiggled slightly to make it easier for her to remove them - she knew that she would have asked permission before even thinking about touching her sexually, so it was probable that she was just trying to take the jeans off to make sleeping more comfortable for the both of them.

“You tried reading a long file without taking a break again, didn’t you?” Fareeha asked, sounding a little accusatory, and the only response that Angela gave was a faint grunt of affirmation. “Angela, it isn’t like you were giving someone open heart surgery. You’re allowed to take breaks from studying. You know this gets you overly tired.” Her voice was chastising, worried, and Angela couldn’t help but look up at her with blue eyes as she swiped some fine blonde hair away from her face. “ _ Hayete, _ please don’t overwork yourself, I don’t like seeing you this way.”

“Well, stop worrying so much,” the doctor huffed slightly, her voice a little quiet and slurred from sleepiness. She just wanted to curl herself against her beloved’s chest and sleep for a long time - hell, she could probably sleep until nuclear fallout, with the way she was feeling right now. Fareeha continued running a hand through her hair, and she let out a soft, contented sigh, inching even closer to the younger woman until she was pressed against her completely.

“That’s a little hard to do when I love you so much,” Fareeha’s lips brushed gently against her forehead, and even though she was scolding her Angela could feel the smile upon her face and couldn’t help but return it. “You just need to relax. There’s no need to work yourself up to be so worried all of the time. You aren’t the only one on base that’s capable of helping anyone, and I think you forget that sometimes. You’re allowed to rest sometimes,” the hand running through her hair stilled in order to rest over her side, cupping around her abdomen.

“I know,” Angela sighed softly, looking up at her lover again, this time with a small smile on her face and an adoring look in her eyes. “I’ll stop overlooking myself when you stop worrying so much about me. Is that a good enough deal?” she reached up to gently run her fingers down Fareeha’s jawline, watching as a small blush appeared across her face. She was just teasing, and her girlfriend could probably tell when she shifted a little in order to gently press a kiss against her lips. “Or is that impossible for you?” A small smirk on her face now, she raised an eyebrow at the younger woman.

“Oh, no, you’ve got me. I’ll never be able to stop that.” Fareeha sighed heavily, rolling her eyes. Angela yawned then, and moved to snuggle against her collarbone, and the taller woman’s arms wrapped carefully around her in order to pull her close. “Go to sleep,  _ hayete. _ The base will most likely still be in one piece when those lovely eyes open again.”

“See, now that you’ve said that I’m worried,” Angela joked, and for a split second thought about saying something else - but before she could, she had stumbled into unconsciousness, eyes drifting closed and hands curling as she floated into dreamland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all of my chapters end with people falling asleep for some reason. and oh my god please comment i can only scream into the void for so long


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reinhardt and Brigitte contact Torbjorn and Bastion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have NEVER written torb before. ever. everyone else i have a little bit of experience with, but torb? none. be gentle with me ple ase

Brigitte did  _ not _ think that this was a good idea. She thought that Reinhardt’s sense of duty was getting in the way of things that were actually good for him. Of course, she didn’t say anything about it out loud, but Reinhardt could hear it in her voice and see it in the way she walked - he had known the oldest Lindholm child since before she was even born, remembered visiting when she was born in the hospital and spending Christmases with their family thanks to his friendship with Torbjorn. He was one of the first people that she came out to when she realized that she was gay. He knew the little ticks that hinted that she was upset, and she was doing all of them.

He was a little more solemn than he usually was after his visit to Eichenwalde and trip down memory lane. Normally he would have been loud and excitable, but now, he was… well, still loud and excitable, but much less so. He was just focused on walking back to the city and catching a train to Spain, and Brigitte was trailing behind him with her hands in her jean pockets and a sour look upon his face. Reinhardt couldn’t help but wonder what had happened in recent years to make her bitter like this; when she was a child, she had posters of heroes all over her room, and now she seemed angered just by the mention of Overwatch or the idea of spending time in the watchpoint.

“Really, Brigitte, you should lighten up. It was not all that bad,” he said, puffing out his chest and gently patting her on the back - or, well, he tried to do it gently, but she jolted forward slightly as if she would’ve fallen over without past experience hanging out with Reinhardt. “I had a lot of good times working with Overwatch. Bad ones, sure, but those come when you work with the military.”

An irritated sigh was her only response for a moment, and when he looked back at her she was just focusing on the ground. Normally, he would have slowed for her, but he was a little more worried about making it to the train station in a timely manner than he was about her thoughts on the matter of his job. “It’s not your experience in the organization that worries me, it’s how they treated you throwing you out. How they treated my papa when they threw him out. They didn’t give you any financial assistance, any help finding a new job to support yourself.”

“I mean, it was very good for the resume!” He grinned brightly at her, but Brigitte simply narrowed her eyes at her. Apparently, trying to lighten the mood wasn’t going to work on her this time. Reinhardt sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. “Brigitte, I do not know about Torbjorn, but I am not bitter about how my case was handled. The organization shut down suddenly - nobody expected for the Petras Act to go through when it did. That was the fault of those in charge of us, not the fault of Winston, or anybody else that might be trying to initiate a recall with him.”

She furrowed her brows, and Reinhardt looked away from her again, once more focusing on the path ahead of them. Although the Black Forest was very dense and untouched for a majority of it, luckily someone had kept the trail between Eichenwalde and Stuttgart fairly neat and easy to traverse, as long as it took to walk it. He wished that he knew who they were, so that he could thank them properly.

“I guess,” she finally spoke, and he did not need to look back at her to know that she had shrugged. “Just… Reinhardt, I’m worried for your mental health. You - I saw how you reacted when you first watched the call. You looked like you got punched in the gut.” She moved forward in order to gently rest a hand against his arm, and he looked down at her to find wide and concerned brown eyes, almost as if she was twelve years old and asking him a question about something small. “I’m not sure that giving more of yourself to Overwatch is a good idea, that’s all.”

Well, that just made him feel guilty for making her worry at all. Reinhardt gently ruffled her hair, and she gave off a scoff of annoyance in response before he started talking. “Brigitte, I appreciate your concern for me, and I appreciate that you are trying to look after me. I am an old man, though, and I am capable of making my own decisions! I do not need a kindhearted teenage girl making them for me.” He lifted his hand off of her head in order to lift a branch out of his way.

“I’m nineteen!” she spoke quickly, as if  offended by his calling her a teenager, and let out a heavy sigh. “I guess you’re right, though. I just… care about you a lot, that’s all. You’re like a second father to me, and I want you to be… well… as happy as you possibly can.” The sincerity in her tone caught him off guard a little, and he was almost tempted to do what she wanted and follow her advice, just keep travelling across Europe and solving little crimes along the way. Almost.

“If it would make you feel better, perhaps we could give your father a call. He would probably agree to meet us near the watchpoint if it were you asking him.” He gently nudged her with his elbow, turning his head in order to give her a bright and encouraging smile. She gave him an odd look, then looked back to the foliage as if she was thinking.

“Actually, maybe that would be a good idea.” She pulled her cell phone from her pocket, quickly unlocking it in order to contact Torbjorn. “It’s been too long since we talked to him, anyway.”

* * *

 

Over the last couple of weeks, Torbjorn Lindholm and grown to like the Bastion unit that he had taken in; the omnic had been hiding out in his shed since they met in the woods. His younger children, though concerned at first, had warmed up to them quickly as well, enjoying their childlike manner and the bird friend that had been dubbed Ganymede. Truly, the robot was harmless, wouldn’t hurt anybody under most circumstances; still, Torbjorn tried to keep them away from anything that might bring back memories of the crisis. Even if it didn’t make them dangerous, he doubted it was pleasant to be brought back to a time of such devastation and fear for someone whose kind was long dead.

He ignored the recall when it first came; he had no interest in returning to Overwatch, more busy with his family, omnic friend, and engineering work now. He did not answer the call from Winston, or another that followed the next day; however, how was he supposed to ignore when his phone began going off and his oldest daughter’s name appeared on the screen? So he picked the device up, swiping to allow the call to begin with a bright smile upon his face.

“Brigitte!” His mood was immediately lightened upon hearing her laugh, and Reinhardt’s accompanying her. The only reason he supported her journeys to more dangerous and crime ridden areas of Europe were because his old friend was accompanying her; Torbjorn knew that she could handle herself, sure, but he was protective of his child; what parent wouldn’t be? “How has your travelling been? I can’t believe you two have avoided talking to me for so long. I almost feel insulted.” He spoke in good humor, though, and he hoped that the two of them knew that.

Bastion beeped curiously upon hearing Torbjorn talking in a much happier tone than usual, and made their way across the room in order to look over at him and try to listen in on the phone conversation. He allowed it, knowing the omnic to be a curious one and not wanting to put them in a more somber mood - he doubted Brigitte was going to talk to him about something personal with Reinhardt nearby, anyway, considering how much of a nosy gossip the massive crusader was most of the time.

“We’re good, papa,” his daughter responded, and he could hear the smile in her voice. Birds chirped in the background, and he could hear dry leaves crunching underneath her feet; so they were in a forest, or at least somewhere near one. “We just visited Eichenwalde, and we’re on our way back to Stuttgart right now to catch a train.” There was a moment of quiet then, and then she began to speak again, her voice a little more quiet and hesitant. “Actually, I wanted to ask. The other day, did your Overwatch communicator go off? Reinhardt’s did, and I wanted to see if it was just the one.”

“Mine went off too, yes,” he replied, and Bastion beeped once more, holding the communicator in question up. Torbjorn shook his head, and signalled with one hand for them to put it down; they complied with a little bit of a dejected noise. “You two aren’t planning on travelling to Gibraltar, are you? A recall is illegal, it can’t end well for either of you.” Internally, he promised to murder Reinhardt if he was about to drag his oldest child into something that could ruin her life - more pressing, though, was the knowledge that he was going to have to take Bastion and follow along to look out for her.

“We are.” She sounded a little nervous telling him this; not that he could really blame her. He had talked enough shit about Overwatch over the years that it didn’t surprise him that she didn’t want to bring it up with him. Admittedly, it wasn’t really the fault of anyone that was trying to contact him; more the clumsiness of those in charge. “I know you probably weren’t planning on it, but… would you be willing to meet us in Spain before we make our way to the watchpoint? I don’t know much about what’s going on there, but I do know that they probably need all the help that they can get.”

Torbjorn hesitated, unsure of exactly what he was supposed to say, but eventually let out a defeated sigh. “Okay, I’ll be there. I probably won’t leave until tomorrow, though, because I need to talk to your mother and get everything together.” He stood up, and glanced over at Bastion, who was still watching him curiously. “Don’t be scared when you see me, by the way. I’m going to have an old Bastion unit with me, but they’re friendly.”

_ “You _ have a friendly omnic with you?” Reinhardt’s voice cut in, and Torbjorn could almost see the massive man shoving his face a little closer to Brigitte’s in order to be better heard through the phone, as if his loud voice wasn’t going to be heard crystal clear over anything and everything. “Ha! I almost don’t believe it. You go on so much about how much you hate omnics, and here you are, befriending one.” He was smug, teasing, and Torbjorn might have elbowed him in the stomach if he was actually physically close to him.

“Yes, well, I still don’t like most of them. This one’s just different.” Upon noticing Bastion letting out an offended beep, he looked over at them in order to give an apologetic look. “Worry less about Bastion and more about getting yourselves to Spain safely, alright? I will be there within the next week if nothing else keeps me.”

“We’ll be there sooner, but we can wait for you,” Brigitte affirmed. “Bye, Papa. See you soon.”

“Bye.” And just like that, the call was over. Torbjorn locked his phone and put it down next to him, and sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t think you have too many belongings, but if you have any, gather them up before tomorrow,” Torbjorn commanded Bastion, before leaving the shed in order to go talk to his wife.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athena worries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHA OH MY GOD IT'S 2AM i'm so sorry if the last half of this chapter is a little bit... unclear?

Being manmade did not mean that one couldn’t have feelings or thoughts of their own; at least, Athena liked to tell herself so. She may have been an artificial intelligence, programmed to have a certain personality, but she had evolved past it; evolved to care about others, including - and probably especially - the scientist that had been her only company for several years. It was because of that care that she monitored his vitals, kept track of how much he slept or exercised, made sure that he was living healthily. That considered, if she was capable of stress, she probably would have grown a fair amount of grey hair.

“Winston,” she began to speak again - knowing that he would probably ignore her based on previous attempts, but desperately wanting for her friend and keeper to take care of himself and feeling the need to remind him to do so. “It is suggested to spend at least eight consecutive hours of each twenty four sleeping in order to maintain a healthy lifestyle. You have not gotten more than three hours overall in the last forty eight hours, and have not slept more than quick naps since initiating the recall. I would suggest going to bed to begin catching up on lost hours.”

The gorilla in question let out an annoyed sigh in response, and swung across his office to his work table away from the computer. Athena then connected her voice to the room’s speakers so that she could keep talking and not be ignored; she knew that Winston would never just shut off the computer that held her program and kept her conscious. “You can’t deny that this sleep deprivation is bad for you, Winston. I would like to  _ firmly _ suggest that you put your tools and list away and climb in bed. You will be much more efficient with at least eight hours of sleep, anyway.”

“I’ll go to bed as soon as I’m done with this, Athena,” he responded, not bothering to mask the irritation in his voice. Athena may have been artificial intelligence that struggled to detect the tone of others’ voices, but she could absolutely tell that the scientist was probably just telling her that to get her off his case. That had sort of become their routine since initiating the recall; she would try to tell him to take a break, he would say that he would, and then he’d avoid doing exactly that. “You know I’m the only one that can do any of this. Taking breaks isn’t something I can really afford to do.”

“I am a super computer. I know as much as you, if not more. I can help. Stop thinking that you can just work alone with nobody to say anything about it.” Athena could not move in a literal fashion, but she was connected to enough wires in the watchpoint that she could drift through every room and see through any computer screen or camera that was plugged into any port available.

“What are you going to do? Read everything to me?” Winston snapped, and Athena could sense a feeling of… hurt, pain, in her core. Feelings were not a new development to her AI - not in a real sense - but they still took her aback whenever they reared their ugly heads. He sighed heavily after a moment before she spoke once more. “I’m sorry, Athena, but there isn’t a lot you can help me with. I know what I’m doing, it’s just a matter of actually getting it done. I promise to take a nap soon. Just go talk to some of the agents or something, get your mind off of me.”

She was about to argue, say something along the lines of ‘I don’t have a mind,’ but instead she chose to follow his instructions. Athena used the monitor of the computer one more time to glance Winston over, and then she drifted along the main wire in order to leave. Hopefully,  _ somebody _ would be up and moving in at least one of the many rooms with currently working screens; the Watchpoint had lost electricity in many areas, with the kitchen, Winston’s office, the med bay, and everyone’s quarters being some of the only rooms with working lights.

There was nobody in the dining room, the kitchen, or most rooms, and those that were present in their quarters were more likely to be sleeping, or - in Lena and Emily’s case - doing some more intimate actions. Athena was beginning to lose hope and think that she would just hang around idly in the kitchen for a bit as she drifted through some rooms that hadn’t been explored or checked for power yet - enough that she was almost surprised when she blinked on a monitor in what used to be the common room and found herself watching an omnic monk.

“Tekharta Zenyatta,” she spoke using the small speaker beside the TV, and watched him start slightly and turn to look at her - or, rather, the computer. “I have seen you in meetings, but have not had a chance to properly meet you. My name is Athena, and I am the alternate intelligence that assists Winston and keeps track of everyone in the watchpoint.” She spoke in a very formal tone of voice, as was common in her interactions with everyone other than probably Winston. It was rare for her to be…  _ comfortable _ enough with someone to act like she even had a slight personality.

From Zenyatta, however, came an undeniably warm aura that was not difficult to pick up on. He was calm, and though he lacked an expression his posture and attitude were welcoming. The expression in his eyes, limited as it was, seemed to suggest that he was smiling at her. “Ah, yes, I’ve heard you talk in meetings. You are a very good friend to Winston, from what I’ve heard. I appreciate all of the work you do for all of us.” He floated a bit closer to the computer monitor then, his head tilted curiously. “Why aren’t you in the lab with him now, actually? I don’t often hear you away from there.”

“He requested that I leave after I asked again that he get some sleep. I cannot do much beyond suggesting, unfortunately.” Annoyance was more clear in her voice than she had previously known that she was capable. Athena was more worried than irritated, though; unfortunately, though she was a programmed machine, her intelligence module was developed enough that she was closer to an omnic than a computer. She was capable of feelings, though muted ones, and caring for those she was close to. “He just doesn’t listen to reason. You would think he’d know to, being a scientist.”

“Logic tends to be overshadowed by emotions, and at the moment they are running high. With the second omnic crisis so close and so many issues making the recall difficult, Winston probably thinks it’s all up to him to get a majority of the work done, and that pressure probably would keep him from being able to get much sleep anyway. Though I will communicate this issue with the others. Maybe if more people try, he will eventually agree.” Zenyatta folded his hands together in his lap, his voice gentle and calm. “For the moment, though, would you mind keeping me company? I was getting lonely.”

* * *

 

To her surprise, Zenyatta was fairly enjoyable to spend time with. He was very relaxed and friendly, and was intelligent enough to understand her logical point of view; by the time an hour or so had passed, she was able to consider the former monk a friend - and possibly a good one, at that. After mentioning how she wished she could help beyond just sharing information, though, he went quiet, as if he was thinking - and she permitted him to do so, remaining quiet and just watching.

“The answer seems clear to me, my friend,” Zenyatta spoke slowly, as if still thinking. “Although I know Winston is probably too busy to even consider this for now, it seems that a good solution would be to request he make you an actual physical body. It would take some time to get used to, but you would be able to help not only him, but also anybody that would want to find you in a room with no electricity or screens.” His eyes were smiling again.

Athena, at first, was tempted to argue -- but as she thought, she realized there wasn’t much of a reason to. It seemed like a good idea, really, and one that there wouldn’t be much of a reason to deny that she could figure out, other than perhaps a lack of supplies for the moment, but there were enough devices left untouched for Winston, a brilliant inventor and scientist, to figure out how to build a functional physical form for her. “I will have to try and talk to him about it after he’s gotten some form of sleep. Thank you for listening to me and offering such a smart suggestion, Zenyatta.”

“I am always happy to help a friend,” the monk replied gently, and glanced the computer she was appearing on briefly before gently resting a hand on the side of the screen - apparently in an effort to do the equivalent of putting a hand on her arm. “For now, though, should we spend some time in the kitchen? I know neither of us have to eat, but it is getting close to dinnertime for the humans and gorilla on base, and I think they will be expecting at least my company while they eat, and it would be nice to have you around as well to bond.”

“I would like that,” Athena affirmed, moving slightly in the wire before she stopped, thinking that she probably ought to explain. “It only takes a second or so for me to move from this screen to that one since I know where I am going, and I cannot speak just through the wires alone, so do not be alarmed if you try to make a conversation and I do not respond.” She didn’t want for her new friend to think that she had been ignoring him, even if it was probably not likely. Athena was aware that humans and omnics didn’t take very kindly to being avoided, and she wanted no conflict, even from someone like Zenyatta who would probably not confront her about it.

“You do not seem like the sort of person to ignore someone, anyway,” the monk responded in an almost amused tone, and Athena could not immediately explain why, but for a moment some form of confusion took over her thoughts as he spoke again. “Go ahead and go to the kitchen. I will be right behind you, because unfortunately, I am not as fast as you are.”

She had to think on his statements for a moment, unsure of exactly why they perplexed her so - when the answer hit her very suddenly. He had referred to her as a person; her, a supercomputer created to be the most powerful artificial intelligence on the planet before the omnic crisis, considered broken because she could not recall or answer questions about her creators or purpose and saved only by Winston’s claims that she could be put to use. Athena was, most certainly, not a person - in the sense of humans or omnics. Her personality, though it had developed past its programming, was premeditated nonetheless - and nobody in their right mind would question that. “I’m not a person,” she announced bluntly. “I do not know why you would call me one.”

Zenyatta did not hesitate before he responded again, his voice sage and knowing, almost a little condescending as if he was explaining something obvious to a small child. “Athena, you have thoughts of your own, clearly care about your friends, and clearly have some form of emotion if you’re worried or annoyed by any of this at all. I do not know what your definition of a person is, but you fit mine almost better than some humans or omnics I know do.”

With that, and without waiting for her to respond, he simply floated out of the room to travel to the kitchen - leaving Athena, at least for the moment, to ponder on that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> give athena more love 2k18


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Widowmaker has a checkup, and Hana Song enters the scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i fuckign,, lov,, this fic

They were called ‘check ups,’ but they were far from innocent checks on her health. They were more like precautions taken by those who handled her - little investigations to see if the reconditioning was still working, if she was going to need to be strapped to a chair and pricked with needles and electrocuted and God knows what else for hours at a time sometime soon. Widowmaker felt little, feared nothing - but she could not deny the uneasy feeling that stepping into Dr. Moira O’Deorain’s office, naked and vulnerable and unable to protect herself, for a ‘check up’ left her with before, during, and after the actual routine until she knew if some more reconditioning was in the near future.

She sat up straight on one of the cots on Moira’s office, her hands folded in her lap and yellow eyes glancing around the room at various charts and graphs hung around the walls for easy access. The mad doctor did not leave her notes around - too risky, too much work put into every little thing about every one of her experiments - but it was interesting to see the research of others that contributed to her own conclusions. Helped calm her mind, to look at things she didn’t understand - helped distract her from the knowledge that being injected and electrocuted was only a scratch of Moira’s pen away.

Widowmaker knew full well that she was considered Moira’s favorite subject; that she had put a lot of research, time, and effort into her current physical and mental state. She was something of a guinea pig that had started out as a paid commission and grew into a genuine passion for the geneticist. That it was likely that, if anything at all was off, then she wouldn’t hesitate to fix it immediately. If she could manage to convince the doctor that she was still feeling nothing, and if she continued to show a near complete lack of response to changes in temperature or stimuli to her heart, she would go unharmed at least until her next checkup came around.

The door to the office opened, and Widowmaker had to remind herself before she could react and become startled that she was not supposed to. A difficult task, but not impossible for someone that had ten years of practice. She turned her head, and yellowed eyes watched as the red headed doctor entered. One of Moira’s thin hands held onto a clipboard and pen, and the other was on the doorknob - she looked up from her papers in order to give Widowmaker a sly smile that sent a chill down the assassin’s spine.

This woman could not even be considered a wild card; there was not even the knowledge that there was no reasoning for her actions to comfort her subject. Moira was a woman of science, of cold logic and intelligence. Everything she did, she did for a reason, and a depressingly good one at that - usually relating to science, as was her passion, and her one true love. She understood a complete lack of emotion as well, to the point that Widowmaker wondered if she had any herself.

“Good afternoon, Lacroix,” she spoke in the smooth tone that Widowmaker had gotten so used to. She was the only person left in Talon that still referred to her as Lacroix; a majority of them had not considered that she even  _ had _ another name since only a couple years after she was created. She had a sneaking suspicion that the doctor only referred to her with her last name - her dead husband’s last name - in order to mock what she had become. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t feel,” was the automatic response that left Widowmaker’s lips. Moira walked across the room with her head held high, and the assassin’s careful eyes followed her as some hair fell from her shoulder in order to form a curtain in front of her face. The faintest hint of  _ something _ crossed over her heart; something that she ignored, not wanting to have to acknowledge and face the ghosts of emotions that sometimes haunted her when her reconditioning began to wear off. “That’s the point, isn’t it?” Try as though she might, she couldn’t hide the vague annoyance that leaked its way into her voice.

So much to be kept up with, as if she was a vehicle that needed to be checked on and repaired every few months, everything small treated as though it was something dangerous. Moira moved towards her, lightly dragging her nails up Widowmaker’s arm in order to rest upon the side of her neck in order to check for a pulse. Two fingers stayed there for a few moments, feeling the distance between the gentle beats of her heart. She then pulled up her stethoscope and rested it against Widowmaker’s chest.

“Heart rate seems slow and steady,” Moira mused, probably halfway to herself and halfway to Widowmaker herself. The geneticist then pulled a pocket flashlight out of her lab coat, in order to peek into the assassin’s eyes, ears, and mouth; she jotted down a few notes before pocketing the flashlight, holding the pen in her mouth, held the stethoscope against her heart once more, and snapping her fingers harshly right next to Widowmaker’s ears, probably in an attempt to startle her and see her reaction to the stimuli. The assassin kept her hands clasped in her lap, not reacting externally and praying that her heart had much the same reaction.

Moira pulled her stethoscope away, and looked Widowmaker up and down for a moment, carefully studying her suspect for a moment before gently putting her hand beneath her chin and making her look up at her. “You are in excellent shape, Lacroix. However, I would be careful if I were you. There has been word around Talon of you treating some memorabilia of your old life in a nostalgic manner. Tell me, why did you spare the life of Lena Oxton?”

She was not aware that anyone knew of that, but with how closely she was observed, Widowmaker couldn’t say that she was surprised. A twinge of panic settled into her mind, but she fought it down to keep appearing the way she was supposed to. “It was not part of my mission,” she responded coolly, although in all honesty - she wasn’t entirely sure why she didn’t kill Tracer when she had the opportunity to. Her starting mission was to murder a member of Overwatch that she had so much more emotional attachment to. Her entire purpose in life was to be a cold blooded killer that spared none. Maybe her reconditioning truly was wearing off if she was willing to avoid killing someone.

She was broken out of her thoughts, though, when a thin hand gently rested against her side, brushing up to her breast and lightly scraping a sharp nail against the sensitive skin there, causing a faint gasp from the assassin. “Talon is where you belong, Widowmaker. Would you like for me to remind you of that?” Moira was looking down at her with amused and cold mismatched eyes. Widened yellow eyes stared at the scientist for a moment, before she listened to her instincts and nodded.

* * *

 

Time off was a rare thing, but when it happened, Hana Song was usually alright with just hanging around her apartment and catching up on what the bigger world was up to. It wasn’t often that she got time away from streaming and fighting in her mech at the same time, so she tended to get a little out of touch with any news that wasn’t huge and endlessly relevant - she knew about the death toll in Russia, and she knew about important elections and stuff, but that was about it. International news wasn’t very high up on her priorities list, but when she had time like this, she might as well learn a bit, right?

A simple Google search of “international news” was enough to get her a decent fill. The usual popped up at first - celebrity drama, members of royal families getting married, more shit going down in Kings’ Row… Mondatta was dead, which was pretty sad, but that was pretty much the only thing of note at first. With a sigh, she clicked on one of the articles, and skimmed past it… just to find out the details, really, more than anything else.

Suspected Talon activity, apparently, after a drop ship was spotted picking a woman with long hair near the scene. She had a vague knowledge of that organization; but they didn’t really fit into her busy schedule that much, so she didn’t know all that much about them. Just that they were terrorists that did shit like kill Tekharta Mondatta. Hana got up with a sigh, stretched, and walked out of her room to grab something to eat. There was only so much bad news that she could handle so early in the morning, and she wanted to at least get something into her system before diving down the rabbit hole.

Hana poured cereal into a bowl, followed it up with milk, and pulled herself up onto her counter in order to eat. She barely got the chance to get a couple of spoonfuls in, though, when her phone suddenly vibrated in her pocket. She sighed heavily and pulled it out, acrylic nails typing in her password to unlock it as she spotted a text from her ‘boyfriend’ (they were only dating for publicity, so she hesitated to  _ actually _ call him that; if anything, Lucio Correia dos Santos was just a good friend to her). _ “hey hana banana. have u heard abt what happened in london?” _

She shoveled another spoonful of sugary goodness into her mouth as she typed out a response. _ “u mean w mondatta? ya, it was one of the first things to pop up when i went to look at recent news.” _ She waited a second to eat a little more before she sent a second message. _ “y? is there something else i shld know about?” _ She had a sneaking suspicion that there was  **definitely** something of importance not mentioned in the articles that she had a look at.

_ “just a rumor but it’s an interesting one,” _ was Lucio’s first quick response, but before Hana could type something else, he was typing again. She locked her phone again, shovelled the rest of her cereal in her mouth at a rate that could probably be considered unhealthy, and tossed it in the sink. She would wash it later; she was more concerned with relaxing and catching up on the world than keeping on top of her dishes. As soon as she starting walking back to her room, a second text finally made her phone vibrate.  _ “i’ve heard that some people spotted a few former members of overwatch close to where the sniper lady got on the drop ship. tracer, mercy, and another woman that was using a jetpack, people think it might have been a member of helix security. apparently some ppl in spain have spotted lights on in the old overwatch base in gibraltar. so some ppl are speculating that ovw might be coming back” _

_ “isnt that illegal or whatever,” _ Hana typed quickly, just flopping back onto her bed - she didn’t feel like getting back on her computer right now. _ “not that the law ever stopped anyone anyway,, but dont u think theyd try to be a little less obvious abt it if they were rlly coming back without th petras act being recalled or something” _

_ “never said the theory wasnt without its flaws! it’s just pretty interesting!” _ Lucio’s response was quick, and Hana could practically feel the enthusiasm radiating off of his words.  _ “id try to go look into it but vishkar is still hanging around here… i dont wanna leave rio until the next tour i have to do whoops,, tho i will be in madrid in a few months. maybe i could try and swing by gibraltar when i do!” _

_ “ill look into it,, maybe if theres some concrete evidence i can go check it out,” _ Hana replied, then hesitated before she sent another text. _ “i’ll tell u if i do tho… i have more than enough vacation time if i reeeeally wanted to use it.” _

She had to admit, though she didn’t necessarily believe the rumors, that it would be cool if they were true. Of course little rumors wouldn’t be given attention on international news; she would have to hit up forums or something if she really wanted to do research into this theory.

At least she had something to do on her day off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to clarify; yes, she's texting lucio, they're very good friends and are currently dating as a publicity stunt, so i'm not tagging bunnyribbit!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ana returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chugging some loving ana amari juice tonight

When she decided to come out of the shadows and become a vigilante, it was her mission to protect the innocent and protect those that she loved. When she agreed to help Jack - no, Soldier 76, the edgy old fart insisted - she assumed that she would be pursuing justice while doing exactly that. Here she was, though, so close to her loved ones, learning about the injuries both small and large that her  _ friends _ that she was supposed to  _ protect _ were sustaining; knowing that her  _ only daughter _ was there suffering from the emotional burden of it all - and Jack kept telling her that they were only there to observe, and that they had to stay in the shadows, unable to protect them. To put it mildly, it was frustrating to have this going on, and she was honestly questioning whether to stick around.

“Doesn’t it bother you, knowing that they’re in there without you?” she asked, putting down her rifle after watching their dinner through the scope. She had watched the closest thing to a family she had laughing and bonding without her; she wished she was there to tease her daughter and Angela for flirting, to give some form of advice regarding whatever mission they were discussing. Hopefully she could appeal to Jack’s obsession with everything going his way. “They’re so unorganized now, Jack.”

“I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not going to work,” Jack grumbled, his edgy mask off for once in his life and a sandwich in his hand. “We’re here to observe and possibly break in to get files. Don’t forget that we’re supposed to be dead and they’re not supposed to be here.” He leaned back against the wall, sounding infuriatingly uncaring as he spoke. Ana’s grip tightened around her rifle, eyes narrowing into a glare, but the only response she gave was to stick her tongue out at him. “Very mature.”

She couldn’t help but feel like the limited numbers of the newly reformed Overwatch  _ needed _ her. They were being sloppy, not secretive enough, letting news leak out and not doing anything about the rumors that had started running wild across the world. At least her activities as Shrike only hit tabloids limited to Egypt; three former agents of Overwatch spotted in the general vicinity of a murdered world leader was suspicious at best and incriminating at worst. Whether it was because she was a perfectionist or because she had a protective streak, her inability to jump in and help was driving her up the wall.

“Okay, then I won’t try and tempt you subtly. I will say it to your face. I think we should go inside, try and apologize for pretending to be dead for so long, and try to help everyone get back on track as well as we can,” she finally snapped, putting her rifle down in order to stand with her arms crossed over her chest and a frustrated expression. “I can understand all of this undercover garbage, trying to find out what happened at the Swiss HQ, but I cannot for the life of me understand why you want to just sit around outside of the watchpoint for days at a time. Are you that bitter?”

“I’m not bitter, I’m trying to be realistic. Honestly, Ana, how do you think everyone will respond when two former leaders who haven’t bothered to call in… what… five years show up? When they realize that they buried and mourned at least two people who were alive the entire time? I doubt it would just be happy and rainbows, immediate forgiveness, all that garbage. We’re better off if we keep letting them believe we died.” He glanced over at the watchpoint, and his shoulders slumped slightly. “I want to help them too. Those are our friends; I know that, and I care about them, but…”

“But you’re afraid to have people be angry with you,” she cut him off then, holding one finger up to get him to shut up. “I don’t expect anybody to forgive us; not right away, maybe not ever. Maybe we don’t  _ deserve _ to be forgiven. My mission has always been to keep those under my care safe, though, and even if I’m willing to ignore everyone else - my  _ daughter _ is in there. Fareeha may be grown, but it is still my duty to protect her, and she is in danger if the news of Overwatch’s return gets out. I care about the good that Overwatch can do, but even if I didn’t, I would want to be there for Fareeha at the very least.”

Jack stared at her in silence for a while then, watching her through his visor, but she refused to back down. “Fine. Go inside, but go by yourself. I won’t stop you, but I’m not going to join you, either.” He stood in order to stand at her level and look her in the eyes. “Just remember what I said if they throw you out as soon as you walk in, though.”

She didn’t want to leave Jack on his own; leave him to throw himself into trouble alone; but he was not exactly her priority, and she didn’t want to humor him if he was going to act as selfish as he was. Ana continued watching him for just a moment before picking her rifle back up and swinging it over her shoulder, speaking once more with just a heavy sigh. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

Her friend watched her for a little while longer, the only sign that he was feeling anything at all a slight slump of his shoulders. Ana knew how lonely he got, though he tried to pretend that he didn’t need anyone else. Ana also knew that doing this job alone would take a lot out of him; all she could hope was that he would eventually come to his senses and get over himself. The soldier gave her a salute, gave her a simple “Good luck,” and then went back to kneeling in the spot.

She gave him just one last glance, and then hopped down from their surveillance spot and made a beeline for the door into Winston’s office.

Ana still knew the watchpoint like the back of her hand, so it wasn’t difficult to find her way to the cafeteria where she prayed that everyone still was. The idea to make some form of grand entrance passed through her mind, but in all honesty, that would probably be inappropriate considering she already knew that she was in the wrong and didn’t want anyone to be upset with her, really.

She took a small breath when she reached the end of the hall and pushed open the door to the cafeteria; she was planning on saying something, but when she stepped into the doorway, stage fright took over for the first time in her life and all she could do was watch her friends laughing together and wait for somebody to notice her. Luckily, it did not take very long for that to happen, as Angela looked over Fareeha’s shoulder and just stared at her with wide eyes for a few moments, and the rest of the room followed suit upon noticing the look on her face.

Ana cleared her throat and raised a hand, giving a small wave with an eyebrow raised and a smile on her face in an attempt to hide the nervousness she was feeling. “ _ Ahlan _ ,” she greeted, satisfied by the complete lack of shaking in her voice as she looked over the people - humans, omnic, monkey, cyborg - in the room. “I thought you all could use a little help, so I crawled out of the grave.” Her tone was joking.

The first person to speak and break out of the tense atmosphere and layer of shock in the room, surprisingly, was Lena Oxton - jumping to her feet with a big grin on her face. “Captain Amari!” she hollered, running over to the sniper and wrapping her arms around her, giving a harsh squeeze; Ana grunted ever so slightly, surprised to have  _ that _ be the first reaction she received, but gently patted the former pilot’s back nonetheless. “Oh my God, how are you still alive? Why didn’t you tell anybody you were still around? What have you been doing all these years?”

“Oh, you know. Trying to keep everyone out of trouble, sabotaging those who wish to do more harm than good, the usual. As for not telling anyone I was alive, well…” She hesitated then, letting out a guilty sigh. “I’m sorry. I know that letting everyone mourn me when I was never dead was wrong, but I needed time, and I thought that it would be best if I dropped off the radar for a while.” She pulled back to rest her hands on Lena’s shoulders with a gentle smile on her face. “I am here now, though, and I do not expect for everything to go away or for forgiveness to come easily, but I hope to make up for it.”

Winston lumbered over next, with Genji and Angela by his side and a big smile upon his great face. “Ana, we need all of the help we can get. The fact that you came at all has already improved the situation a hundred fold,” he responded as Angela moved to make the hug into a group situation and Genji rested a hand upon her back. “We’re going to have to discuss everything that’s been happening and everything that needs to happen in the future, but the first priority is to get you settled in.”

As most of the others also walked over to crowd around her, Ana couldn’t help but look up just in time to see Fareeha rise from the table and storm away. Her heart sunk - her first instinct was to pull away from the others and follow after her daughter; but she knew that, sometimes, Fareeha needed space, and it would probably be a little rude or stereotypical to do so when everyone was trying to talk to her already.

So she sighed, and let herself be swept into the conversation.

* * *

 

Fareeha was, to put it mildly, furious with her mother. She had mourned her for years, gotten a tattoo to honor her memory, lived life as an orphan - she still had her father, but really, she didn’t get to see him terribly often, so she had been basically parentless for the last five years - and there was Ana Amari, alive and in the flesh, walking into the cafeteria like no time had passed and no snipers had shot her down. What was worse was that she seemed to be the only one angry; everyone else had just  _ done along with it.  _ Welcomed her mother back.

The past could not be changed, but that didn’t mean she had to forgive it automatically. That didn’t mean she had to forgive it, ever. Maybe Ana had apologized, but that couldn’t take away five years of pain and mourning over losing the woman that raised her and cared about her more than anyone else - or so she thought at the time. Fareeha wasn’t sure if she was more angry or hurt, but either way, her hands were shaking and tears were forming at the corners of her eyes. Without thinking, she stormed back into the quarters she shared with Angela, slammed the door behind her, and walked over to the bed.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, only aware of the fading light in the room; the only thing that broke her out of her angry zoning out and trying not to cry was the sound of the heavy door opening and closing. Fareeha looked up, expecting for Angela to be walking in to check on her, and was honestly surprised to see Ana walk into the room and stand in front of her. “May I sit down?” her mother asked, gesturing to the bed next to her.

Fareeha looked away from her mother, not wanting to look at her more than she had to. “Go ahead,” she responded with a shrug, not entirely sure why she didn’t just say no and leave it at that. Her mother sunk to sit beside her in awkward silence, and the two of them remained quiet for several moments before Fareeha finally sighed heavily and spoke. “I hope you don’t expect me to forgive you, Mum. I spent years thinking I didn’t have a mother. I spent my entire life thinking that you would never lie to me, but you proved me wrong on both of those things in one go. I am glad that you’re still alive, but I don’t understand why you would lie to me about this.”

“I know,” Ana sighed heavily, and rested one hand against her arm - Fareeha was tempted to shake her off and tell her that she didn’t want to be touched. “And I don’t expect you to forgive me,  _ ḥabībti. _ I just want you to know that I am sorry, and that I promise to never keep you in the dark about anything again. You are my daughter, and I was wrong to lie to you for so long.” Another moment of hesitation. “How about this. We take it slow. Forgiveness. We catch up on everything, and work towards being close again, okay?”

She was being reasonable about all of this, and if Fareeha was honest, it was working. She was hurting, but she didn’t want to stay angry with her mother, not after five years of not speaking to her. It wasn't like she was about to forgive her immediately for her years of silence and hurt, but… at the very least, she did want to at least give Ana’s suggestion a shot, and try to repair their relationship.

Suddenly, she moved to wrap her arms around her mother, and Ana tensed slightly before hugging her gently. Fareeha didn’t mean to, but tears began threatening to spill, and her breathing became a little more irregular; her mother softly muttered some comforting words into her ear, rubbing her back gently, and Fareeha stopped holding back.

For the first time in a while, she began to cry in the arms of her mother.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reinhardt, Brigitte, Bastion, and Torb arrive on base. Sombra has a meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you guess who the mysterious man is yet?~

Travelling with a bastion unit omnic straight out of the crisis was not something that was high up on Reinhardt’s list of things he expected to do someday, nor could he say that it was one of his  _ favorite _ things to do. He wasn’t about to treat Bastion badly or anything like that - not if they were Torbjörn’s friend, apparently, and not if they earned Brigitte’s favor as quickly as they did - but he couldn’t deny that he was rather… uneasy, regardless of whether or not the omnic was as friendly as they appeared. Constantly stopping to speak to birds like some sort of Disney princess and travelling with a little yellow one on their shoulder were not threatening behaviors, so Reinhardt was frustrated with himself.

It was a relief when the tall watchpoint finally came into view amongst the vast sky of stars. He longed to rest for a while, catch up with old friends, and not have to listen to Bastion’s beeping as they had a one sided conversation with Brigitte anymore.  _ That _ was probably rude of him to think, but after how many he fought, he thought it was a little understandable. None of this, however, was he prepared to say out loud. “Aha! There is the base! Have you ever been inside, Brigitte?”

The mechanic looked over to him, distracted from her conversation with Bastion, and Reinhardt watched as she looked up towards the watchpoint and her eyes widened. “A couple of times, I think, Mom took me to visit Papa.” She left Torbjorn’s side then, walking a little more quickly until she was beside Reinhardt. She was tall, but not as tall as him, so her stride had to be increased for her to walk beside him. “Winston said that we should walk in through the door by his office, right? Everything else is probably locked, considering how many years it’s been since most of the watchpoint was in use.”

“Unless the United Nations were horrifically sloppy in cleaning up, that’s probably about right. Though if they could leave a gigantic genetically modified gorilla alone in the watchpoint for five years, the chances probably aren’t terribly low,” Torbjörn spoke up, and when Reinhardt looked back at him, his hands were in his pockets and a smile was barely hidden behind his beard. The German knew his friend well enough that he could assume that he was thinking back on the good old days; and, honestly, he’d be lying if he claimed not to be.

Just looking around the grounds of the watchpoint brought many memories back. He could remember laughing and scolding Lena for climbing the various tall towers, yelling at her that she would hurt herself if she wasn’t careful; he could almost hear her giggles in the wind. He remembered having tea parties by the water with Fareeha when she was a child; he almost felt the princess tiara upon his head. He could remember sitting with Ana on the edge of the cliff, talking about life, comforting her whenever the weight of her confirmed kills got too heavy for her. His heart sank as he thought of the woman he had cared so much about. He was not a praying man, but he prayed that whatever life came next had been treating her kindly for the last several years. She deserved that much.

When the group reached the entrance, the place was already open; that was cause for concern for Reinhardt. If you were in the middle of illegal activity, you were not supposed to just leave the door hanging open! You could get caught, and get in trouble. Still, he ducked his head slightly to fit through the doorway, gesturing for Torbjörn, Brigitte, and Bastion to follow behind him, and he waited for his three companions to walk inside before pulling it down.

“Agents Wilhelm and Lindholm,” Athena’s voice suddenly spoke from right beside Reinhardt, and the tall man couldn’t help but jump slightly at how sudden it was; she was trying to be quiet, clearly, but that didn’t stop him from getting startled. “Welcome back to Watchpoint Gibraltar. Greetings, Brigitte - oh, and it seems you have brought with you a Bastion unit as well. Do be careful introducing them to the others, as I am not sure how they would react, and feel free to make your way to your quarters. The other agents have already retired to their quarters for the night, and keep quiet, because I finally got Winston to rest. There will be a meeting over breakfast in the cafeteria tomorrow.”

“It is good to see you again, Athena!” Reinhardt declared, a grin appearing on his face. The artificial intelligence had kept him out of trouble for years, and if he was being honest, that had made him quite fond of her. “We will be as quiet as mice, my friend,” he promised, crossing one great hand over his heart, “though is there any particular room you would like each of us in?”

“You should be fine staying in any room at all, aside from a few. Tracer and her girlfriend are sharing room A-1, Mercy and Fareeha Amari are in A-2, Genji Shimada in A-3, Tekharta Zenyatta in A-4, Jesse McCree in A-5, and…” she paused then, something rather out of character for her. “A-6 is also occupied, though I believe the resident would prefer to announce their presence themself. All rooms are currently clean and prepared to be occupied, though I would suggest remaining in the A hallway, as none of the others have had power restored quite yet.”

One of the people on the base did not want their presence known unless they announced it themself? That alone was suspicious, in Reinhardt’s eyes! He trusted Athena, though, to not hide anything dangerous from him or anyone else. She was a logical being, which was more than he could say for himself, and that was somewhat comforting for him. “Alright! We will probably take rooms continuing down the hallway. Are you sure it is alright for Brigitte and Bastion to stay, though?”

In the olden days, unless you were the minor dependent of someone important on the base and had no other choice - as was the case of Fareeha Amari when her parents were in the middle of divorcing and Ana had neither a home off base nor the will to allow her daughter to be swept off to Canada and potentially lose custody of the only family she truly had - you were not to live on the watchpoint unless you were an agent. Brigitte was Torbjorn’s daughter, yes, but it was hardly a life or death manner for her to be on the watchpoint, and Bastion was not a civilian, but he did not work for Overwatch.

“Fareeha Amari and Emily Thomson were not agents of Overwatch when they first arrived on the watchpoint. We cannot afford to be picky of who stays here at the moment, and we would be happy to have the company of two more new recruits.” There was a smile in her voice, and Reinhardt wished for a moment that she had a face so that she could express that. “Is there anything else you need, Agent Wilhelm, or are you just going to remain here to keep me busy?”

The gigantic man saluted to the screen that Athena was speaking from, a wide grin upon his face. “That will be all, Athena. Thank you,” he spoke to her, and watched as the screen winked out back to darkness before gesturing for his party to follow him and making his way through Winston’s office. He was tall, heavy set, so it was difficult for him to walk quietly even without his armor; for Bastion’s clanking metal, it was even worse. Somehow, though, they managed to make it into the main corridor without waking Winston - or, if they did, the noise wasn’t quite annoying enough for him to tell them.

He bid Torbjorn, Brigitte, and Bastion goodnight, sending them off to their quarters with the intent to walk down to the cafeteria and kitchen to make himself a sandwich or something to eat before he retired for the night. He walked down the hallway with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, whistling a merry tune as he navigated the halls he knew like the back of his hand, though when he opened the door to the cafeteria and stepped into the darkened cafeteria, he couldn’t help but freeze at the sight of a familiar silhouette sitting at a table by the window and drinking tea.

At first, he thought that he was seeing a ghost, but when he walked slowly toward her he realized that there was no doubt - Ana Amari was sitting in the cafeteria, turned her head to look at him when she heard her footsteps and gave him a small, sad smile. “Hello, Reinhardt,” she spoke softly, quietly, in a tone more emotional than he was used to hearing from her. “It has been a while.”

Reinhardt’s breath caught in his throat, and all he could to was stare at her for a while. Ana was  _ alive. _ He knew that he should be angry with her for lying and hiding for so long, but for the moment, all he could feel was pure glee at seeing the woman he cared so much for alive and well. He swallowed down tears, gave her a shaky smile, and the first thing he could think to say was a small joke. “Is there anybody else I should know of that has come back from the dead?”

* * *

 

Sombra looked up from the paper that had been slid to her to the man sitting before her. She raised an eyebrow and leaned back in her chair, hands folded in front of her and legs crossed underneath the table. “Okay,  _ monsieur _ ,” she began, her tone sarcastic and teasing but the words real and serious. “As much as I care about her and want to help, this is risky. Really well put together, but risky. It needs a lot of work before you can convince me to sign on.” She moved so that her elbows were on the table, hands still crossed as she rested her chin on them. “What happens if it doesn’t work?”

“It will work,” the man responded, his face still shrouded by darkness - and Sombra was a little bit amused by his confidence. He claimed to have been watching for years, but if he really had, he would get that it wasn’t as simple as just hoping that love would get through to someone that had been through as much as the woman he wanted to save had. “It has to. All I am asking for you to do is get the fake mission through to her and make sure she goes on it.”

“Really,” she scoffed a little bit, but was silenced before she could speak again by the waiter of the bistro that approached their table. Their use of English was hopefully disguising the subjects of their discussion from the mostly French crowd in the restaurant, but one could never be too careful. She waved the waiter away, watched him walk off, and then turned back to the man across from her. “Your story is touching, but it is going to take more than love. I would have to get into her files, change a few things up…” She trailed off, imagining the workload it would get her.

It was a lot.

“What would I have to pay you? Name your price. I will do or give anything,” the man sounded desperate, leaning towards her, his careful mask cracked. Sombra scoffed slightly at him, and waved her hand dismissively.  _ “Please, _ Sombra.”

“There’s nothing you can pay me that I can’t get for myself,” the hacker leaned back into her seat, lifting her glass of expensive wine and swishing it slightly in the glass before she took a sip. “I was going to say that I’ll do it. She is my friend, though I’m not sure if she feels the same. I don’t like watching everything that happens to her. It’s… unpleasant.” She wrinkled her nose. “We’ll be in touch. The most you need to pay me is to buy me dinner,  _ amigo _ .”

The gratitude on the man’s face was almost amusing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the two parts are linked, i promise. someone is alive that isn't supposed to be.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 29\. Sept. 2076. 13:34.   
> All systems restored. Internet connection secured.  
> Connected to Watchpoint Gibraltar systems and database.  
> Starting up system. Connecting to limbs.  
> 98%... 99%... 100%.  
> Athena online.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> she WALK

_ 29\. Sept. 2076. 13:34. _

_ All systems restored. Internet connection secured. _

_ Connected to Watchpoint Gibraltar systems and database. _

_ Starting up system. Connecting to limbs. _

_ 98%... 99%... 100%. _

_ Athena online. _

 

She sat up.

Wiggled her fingers a bit. Stretched. Tried to get used to being able to move at all. She turned her head, bent her knees, marvelled at her ability to do these basic little motions. An incredulous laugh left her, and she couldn’t help but jump a little at the fact that she could hear her own voice coming from an actual point on her body. This was surreal, but she loved it - loved that she could  _ feel _ the cold of the metal table beneath her, loved that she could actually move around, loved that if she wanted to, she could stand up right this minute and walk around and - and Winston gently grabbed onto her shoulders and lowered her back into a sitting position. If she had a face, she would be pouting.

“I know you’re excited, Athena, but we need to make sure you’re stable before you can get up and start moving,” Winston scolded her lightly, and she tilted her head up in order to look up at his face, excited by even the ability to do that slight movement. The scientist moved her head slightly so that he could access a panel on the side of her neck, and the artificial intelligence had to concentrate to avoid squirming. Her first time inhabiting a body was turning out to be a little frustrating.

Athena tapped her foot impatiently as Winston tightened one of the screws that must have been a little loose, and she felt a slight twitch in her throat as her voice box clicked into place. She made a sound as though she was clearing her throat, and her friend stepped back again, tilting his head as he studied her carefully, making sure that she looked complete and stable. “Okay, I think you’re ready. Any questions?”

She waited a moment, looked down and studied her hands - delicate enough to handle machinery, joints moving smoothly, the metal and plastic darkly colored, brand new and shiny; she could see the reflection of her logo, glowing on the screen of her face. “Do I still have access to all of the information I had beforehand, and what are the limits on this body? Additionally, what can I do to help today?” Her tone was as flat as it usually was, but there was an undertone of excitement, as though she was a child at Christmas. Athena had never even imagined herself with a physical body, but now that she had one, she was overwhelmed with possibilities - she could do  _ anything _ now that she could move freely.

“First, yes, you still have all of the mental capabilities that you did before. There’s a chip consisting of your program in your head, and you’re connected to the computer in here, so it shouldn’t be too difficult for you to find any information. Secondly, your limits are pretty easy to get around; you’re not very flexible, so you probably shouldn’t try and squeeze in anywhere, and I didn’t have strong metal for your joints, so you probably shouldn’t try to lift anything too heavy.” He held out his hand, and she took it, allowing him to help her to her feet. “Thirdly, the most you can do to help me today is walk around the watchpoint and get used to your body. Zenyatta offered to spend the day with you. We can get to work on managing the electricity and getting more comms online tomorrow, or whenever you’re used enough to moving around and getting smaller tasks done. If you try and operate machinery before doing anything else with your hands, mistakes might be made.”

At first, she was tempted to argue, say that helping him around the lab was the entire point of his making her a body, but she couldn’t help but agree. She had done very limited movements so far; though she might know how to do various complex operations with her hands, whether or not it would be possible with her limited experience was questionable. So instead, Athena nodded, willing to comply with Winston’s advice for today at least; if he wanted her to break off and walk around then she would do so, especially when asked to do so with another friend. “Are there any tasks you would like us to accomplish?” she asked, folding her hands in front of her.

“Not particularly,” Winston responded, walking around her in order to examine her body and make sure that everything was securely in place; when he was satisfied, he swung himself back up to his computer, apparently to get back to work now that the side quest of building a vessel for her was done. “But if you really want to get something done and feel like you’re helping, you can walk around the areas of the base that haven’t had power restored yet. Check the power boxes and see if there would be any way to connect them to the main electricity and solar panels outside. See if we can get the rest of the watchpoint lit up without having to contact any power companies.”

Satisfied with being given something to do, Athena nodded and began walking out of the room, a little clumsy on her newly created legs but able to make her way into the hallway without tripping. When she entered the dimly lit hall, she was surprised to find Zenyatta, floating and waiting patiently against one wall for her; when he saw her, he approached, his eyes smiling.

“Athena! Your physical form is looking quite nice. Winston did a swell job.” He tilted his head, studying her carefully, and she couldn’t think of what to say to respond - ‘thank you’ didn’t seem quite appropriate, as it was not her work. Luckily, though, the monk spoke once more before the situation could get awkward. “I heard what he said. Do you wish to walk through the darkened parts of the watchpoint, or would you rather simply lurk, and introduce your new body to our fellow agents?” Zenyatta folded his hands together in front of him, his voice calm and friendly.

She waited for a moment, thinking on that. Her first instinct was to go do what she could to help get Overwatch back up and running without much stumbling, and she did not think that she wanted to be crowded by more than just one or two people on the base at a time. So her response, after a bit of thought, she finally responded to her friend. “I would prefer to look around the base as I was asked to,” she spoke slowly and thoughtfully, studying Zenyatta carefully to make sure he was okay with that.

He did nothing to suggest that her decision made him feel any sort of negativity, and he simply nodded, offering her his arm - when she looked at him for a moment, confused, he explained. “You are new to walking. I would like to be there for you and assist you to walk so that you do not fall.” That seemed logical enough, so Athena looped her own arm through his, allowing him to help her walk down the hallway. To her surprise, having the support of another did make it easier to move on her unsteady young feet, made it mores simple to balance.

So, with Zenyatta’s help, Athena began an inspection of the watchpoint.

* * *

 

It was twilight when the omnic and the artificial intelligence made their way onto the roof. The sun was making its way underneath the horizon of the vast ocean, and a group of agents were outside, enjoying the warm autumn weather; Fareeha and Angela were splitting a chocolate bar and talking in the shade of the building, Lena was zipping around between Emily and Genji and talking about something that Athena could not make out, Torbjorn and Brigitte were catching up as Bastion followed their bird around, and Reinhardt and Ana had begun slow dancing to country music playing from a radio that Jesse had set up and was sitting beside.

“I was envious of them, once,” Zenyatta spoke suddenly, and when Athena grew confused and looked at him, the monk laughed faintly and clarified, gesturing to Ana and Reinhardt. “Humans, I mean. They have never needed to question their emotions, or whether they are capable of romantic love. It is such a big part of their culture, even, that there is rarely a need to explain themselves or their feelings. It was a cause for envy for me for years, but I have worked past it. It may be my usual tendency to question everything, find meaning behind everything, but now I realize that emotions do not follow rules.”

The artificial intelligence listened to her friend intently, sinking to sit down on the roof and watch the humans and omnic quietly as she thought on that. He was right, that emotions did not follow rules or programming - that was part of the reason she tended to think that she was incapable of them. However, omnics were artificially created as well - if they could have thoughts and feelings, why not she? Their minds were computers, but as Zenyatta said - feelings did not always follow fact.

“Do you experience romantic attraction?” she asked him, genuinely curious as to what his answer would be and what any thoughts on the matter he might have. Athena folded her hands in her lap, wondering how the agents below had not spotted them sitting on the roof. Zenyatta sunk from his floating position in order to sit on the roof beside her, his legs in a lotus position whereas Athena’s dangled off the roof and reached into the empty air below.

Zenyatta was quiet for a few moments before he finally responded. “I do,” were the simple words that left him at first, and he waited before he spoke some more. “Romantic relationships are a rather attractive concept, wouldn’t you agree? Having someone who you can trust with your entire being, someone that you will most likely spend the rest of your life with. The cuddling seems like a good bonus as well, although unfortunately it would be impossible for me to kiss.” A small chuckle left the monk.

Athena was quiet, considering her friend’s words for a few moments. Did she feel romantic attraction? She wasn’t sure yet; she had no way of knowing. “Do you think romantic love is what validates the fact that someone can feel?” she asked - her knowledge was limited, mostly, to what she needed to know. Her photographic memory and ability to find out almost anything that she did not feel the need to learn about things that previously seemed so… irrelevant to her. If she was going to have an existential crisis about her emotions and new body, then she might as well do it right.

“Absolutely not!” Zenyatta responded quickly, as if this was something he had thought on for quite a while and had developed a passionate opinion about. “Many omnics do not feel romantically, but they still have valid emotions. There are even some humans who do not feel romantic attraction, and that does not make their emotions any less. Attraction is an emotion, but not the only one.”

The artificial intelligence thought on that for a moment, but she was cut off by the rather loud and excited voice of Lena shouting up at her from below. “OI! ATHENA, LUV, IS THAT YOU? YOU LOOK GREAT! COME DOWNSTAIRS AND JOIN US! YOU TOO, ZEN!” Her hands were cupped over her mouth at first, but rather quickly she began waving enthusiastically, and Zenyatta laughed lightly.

“Perhaps we should go join them, then?” He asked, rising back into floating, and Athena followed suit, rising to her feet. Zenyatta took her arm once again, and together they made their way to the stairs with the intent to walk outside and join the group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;)


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Overwatch and Talon each have a meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me lov parallels

Meetings with the newly recalled Overwatch were rowdy, and as their numbers grew it only became moreso. Angela, as much as she loved the easy efficiency of the old Overwatch’s meetings, had to admit that she loved the friendly atmosphere that came when you threw a bunch of good friends together and told them to discuss policies. They treated themselves and each other seriously, but not too seriously; discussion was open; jokes were welcome to lighten the mood. With how little impact they could make given their current resources, missions were scarce, and often, not terribly huge. It was frustrating, but it made the meetings so much more easy to deal with.

“Okay, okay,” Winston laughed, his hands up as he tried to calm down the current situation so that he could speak and get some messages out. Angela, though still giggling slightly at a joke Fareeha had just told her, put a hand on her mouth and managed to quiet alongside the rest of the people in the room as Winston stood up a little straighter than usual in an attempt to look more serious. “There hasn’t been any big news stories recently. Or, well, not big enough to suggest Talon activity that we ought to intervene, so we should discuss manners of what’s happening here in the base. Athena and Zenyatta did a thorough inspection of electric lines throughout the base. Do you have a report?”

“We do,” Athena responded, and Angela started, still not used to her voice coming from an actual body. She had the shape of a feminine omnic, created of metal and coated in white plastic, and where a face should be was a screen displaying her logo, though as she began to speak the logo disappeared and was replaced by a photograph of an electric box from one of the darkened areas of the base.

“After checking around the base, we discovered that, though most power lines remained relatively untouched, a majority of the fuse boxes in the base are very outdated, including the ones in rooms that we have been using. I can connect the rest of the rooms to our current solar panels without much fuss, however, I would suggest that we upgrade to avoid many fire hazards and only keep necessary lights, computers, and chargers plugged in and active. I will not need much time to power the base; it should be done within the next few days, and then I will be ready to assist with any other projects I am necessary for.” The image displayed on her face screen vanished, and her logo returned.

Winston nodded in response to her, and then turned to Ana, Reinhardt, Torbjörn, Brigitte, and Bastion, who all sat together in a group at the end of the gathering. “Now, we probably should get you five caught up on everything that’s been happening. You haven’t missed very much, but what you did was pretty important.” He paused for a moment, before beginning to speak once more. “As you’ve probably seen on the news, Tekharta Mondatta was assassinated in London. Tracer was stationed there in an attempt to keep him safe, but was unsuccessful.” Angela glanced towards Lena, and watched her shrink into herself a little. “She was injured, and her chronal accelerator was damaged, but I managed to repair it and she has made a full recovery. Other fairly recent missions were to Dorado in Mexico to scout for Talon agents, but all we really managed to find was a gang called Los Muertos; and to Route 66 in America to do a little cleaning up of the Deadlock gang’s more deadly current activities. For the most part, a majority of our activities have been doing repairs around the base and trying to get in touch with the agents that haven’t responded to our calls yet.”

“I could help with some of the repairs, make things a little more efficient and quick. I could also probably help make fuse boxes a little more stable as well.” Brigitte spoke up, and Angela studied her for just a moment. She had never met Torbjörn’s daughter in person, only seen a few pictures of a round faced pre-teen in passing encounters, but she knew from the mechanic’s constant gushing about her that she had grown to take in her father’s footsteps. A skilled and brilliant mechanic - that had apparently been travelling with Reinhardt to keep his crusader armor in shape, and judging from what she had seen, she had done a pretty damn good job at it. She had no problem with letting her touch dangerous equipment.

“That’s a good idea,” Winston responded, nodding once more before pulling himself into a somewhat upright position and walking over to you. “I should warn you, though, Brigitte. You’re nineteen years old. If you pull yourself into this, you could get into some serious trouble that could ruin the rest of your life. We’d be happy to have you as a mechanic, but…”

“Did you give this talk to Emily, Fareeha, and Zenyatta?” Brigitte interrupted him, crossing her arms over her chest and raising an eyebrow. “Winston, I may be young, and I may have spoken about my distaste from Overwatch in the past, but I’m still an adult, and I want to help my friends and my papa. Don’t try to baby me. I’m going to do this.” Her tone was forceful, and Winston accepted it then, reaching out one hand for her to shake before turning slightly, just to look at Ana.

The scientist pushed his glasses up his face, studying the sniper’s face carefully before he spoke up at last. “I would like to ask you to take the leadership of Overwatch, Ana. I’ve been trying to fill in, but I don’t have the experience that you do, and you were one of the leaders before. I figured when you got back that you would want to take over.” He cleared his throat. “So? What do you say?”

The old soldier hesitated, looking a little uncomfortable under the gorilla’s gaze, and Angela almost wanted to walk over to put a hand on her shoulder. When she finally spoke, it was a response that she - and probably Winston, honestly - did not expect. “I think that would be best left to the younger generation,” she spoke, holding her chin up. “The old Overwatch crumbled under the rule of us older folks. We made mistakes - and a lot of them… we were much shadier than we should have been, and did not treat our soldiers and doctors properly. You seem to be doing a good job leading so far, Winston, and I would hate to take that away from you and just break down something that can help again.”

Winston nodded slowly, almost looking a little disappointed, but looking vaguely hopeful - Angela had to admit that she was happy with Ana’s response, honestly. She was right; the leadership from before had not been ideal, even if that was hardly the sniper’s fault. If Overwatch was going to come back, it had to be someone new in charge, and honestly? The scientist was the best option, considering he was the one that wanted so desperately to bring the organization back and help people again.

A moment of silence passed, before Winston returned to his previous spot. “Now that those are out of the way, we probably have a few other things to discuss…”

* * *

 

“... so we should not waste any more time.”

Talon council meetings were long, and frequently, rather boring. Moira O’Deorain was a professional, but she could not help but get a little twitchy and want desperately to get back to work and do something productive instead of listen to Sanjay Korpal drone on and on about something, complain about some mission that had gone awry and talk about how his investigations into Vishkar’s inner circles were going. He talked too much, and was exhausting to listen to.

She was a little bit startled when Reaper, sitting beside her, nudged her arm with his elbow and slipped a small piece of paper into her lap. Moira blinked, and looked down as she glanced at the words scrolled there.  _ Stay in the meeting room after this is adjourned. I need to speak to you. _ The words were cryptic, but Reaper had not been known to keep her in the dark for long - not in the many years that she worked for him, under Blackwatch or Talon. So, she folded her hands and rested her chin upon them, now more impatient than ever for Korpal to shut up and let them have their own meeting.

It took a while, and Moira listened, but eventually Korpal finished his rant, and Reaper declared the meeting adjourned. The geneticist remained in her seat as Korpal, Maximilien, and Vialli all exited the room - Reaper followed to shut the door behind him, before he finally wraithed over to the table, sitting across from her and speaking in a hushed tone. “I’d assume you’ve noticed the suspected Overwatch activity that’s been running around rumor mills lately.”

“Yes. Widowmaker mentioned it last time I spoke with her. Apparently, Tracer attempted to apprehend her, and she spotted Mercy and Fareeha Amari as she was boarding the retrieval plane.” Admittedly, her interest was peaked. She had not cared that much about Overwatch when she worked in the black ops division, but now that it was illegal and rumored to be returning - she was fascinated. Science was her passion, but she craved all kinds of information; she wanted to know anything that she could get her hands on, including how a ragtag group could manage to pull themselves out of the dust. “Have you heard anything else?”

“Not about what’s happening in Overwatch right now. However, I do know that Ana Amari and Jack Morrison are currently alive and active. I had a run in with them a while ago.” A moment of silence passed between them, before he finally spoke up once more. “I don’t want them to get far, Moira. They threw you out, left me to die, failed Lacroix, left Ana to suffer. They wouldn’t be able to do much of anything. Should we bring this up with the rest of the council?”

“No,” she answered quickly, mismatched eyes snapping over to him and narrowing, her hands dropping down onto the table. “I want to see how far they can get. If it gets to be too big, too dangerous, then we can report it. But for now?” A small pause, a malicious smile appearing on her face. “Now, we leave little tips. Give Talon members small pushes so that they throw off any attempts Overwatch makes to climb out of the shadows. Make them squirm. Make them suffer until they lose all hope and give up.”

A slow nod from her coworker. “That would be satisfying to watch, but I’m not sure of how safe it is. Might be too risky for my tastes. We could lose more agents than we can afford, or by the time we decide it’s too much, Overwatch could be already approved by the United Nations and too much of a problem to be handled with a mission or two like it could be now. Their numbers must be limited. It hasn’t been long enough for the entire organization to answer the call to arms.”

Moira rose to her feet, nails digging into the wood of the table and the grin on her face growing. “We won’t let that happen,  _ Reyes _ ,” she used his old name in a teasing tone, reaching one long, sharp nail in order to lightly poke his mask twice, watching the material turn to shadow for a moment before returning to normal. She had done a good job on him. “We will be able to keep it manageable. I never said we wouldn’t kill a few agents here and there before we take the whole thing down. I just want to see them have hope so that it can be crushed.”

Reaper remained silent for several moments, dark eyes hidden within his mask’s holes watching her carefully and cautiously. He was not one to trust, and he rarely felt comfortable following the ideas of others. He would listen to her, though; he had to, considering how much she had done for him, keeping him stable after he became a living ghost and assisting him with issues relating to SEP side effects. “Alright,” he finally spoke, his voice a low grumble that Moira could figure meant he wasn’t happy about it. “But when we take them down, it happens on my terms.”

“Of course, Gabriel darling, of course.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mei has been travelling for so long...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i LOVE my GIRL

If not for Snowball, Mei would have lost track long ago of how many days she had been braving the Antarctic tundra and the dangerous weather that came with it. She had left the ecopoint five days ago, and had cursed Overwatch’s decision to put the ecopoint so far away from the shore or any form of assistance the entire time. She was beginning to run low on food and water, and was nearly hysterical from exhaustion - so when she first saw a massive boat sticking out from the snow and ice, she legitimately thought that she was hallucinating for several moments.

Quickly, however, she realized that the ocean liner was real, and she began to sprint towards it. “Hey! Help!” she called out, waving her hand over her head and speaking English in the hopes that it would be understood easier than Mandarin. “Please! I need a ride!” She noticed somebody moving on top of the boat, and her second call got their attention, as their head turned in order to look at her. The person quickly scaled a ladder down from the ship, and she finally reached them, her face bright red and her breath coming out in quick wheezes. She was a scientist, not an athlete, for Christ’s sake.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” the person asked in an American accent, squinting at her with their head tilted. “Actually, how did you get here? Sorry, you just… don’t see an awful lot of people around here. You can’t get to Antarctica unless you work for somebody that’ll take you here for some reason.” They were watching her carefully, as if they were as unsure about her existence as she was about theirs. Mei didn’t really have enough time to worry about that, though, for the moment only caring that she got her ride back to a populated continent, any populated continent - she could find her way to Gibraltar from there, and find some way to get her data public.

“I’m Mei-Ling Zhou, I’ve been stuck in cryostasis for nine years, I was a part of the Ecopoint: Antarctica project with Overwatch.” Still wheezing, she fished her identification out of one of her coat pockets and showed it to the person. “Please, I just need a ride back to wherever you’re going so I can call somebody and get back home. Please, please help me.” She was so happy to be speaking to another human being - Snowball was wonderful company, but she had been so lonely trapped in the old ecopoint for so long; she couldn’t wait to return to human society.

The person looked at her identification for a few seconds, and then nodded seriously, looking her over a couple of times before gesturing for her to follow them. “Yeah, yeah, of course we can give you a ride back. We’re going to Los Angeles, California, in the United States, but I’m sure you’ll be able to contact somebody without much trouble.” There was a moment of hesitation from the person then. “You… are aware that Overwatch got shut down five years ago, right?”

“Yeah,” Mei nodded, feeling tears of gratitude well up in her eyes as she nodded. “Yeah, I know. I’m sure at least one of my old coworkers is still alive, right, though?” She was careful to not mention the call that she got from Winston, not wanting to reveal anything that could get her or others in trouble for getting an organization that got shut down back in order. The person nodded, and climbed up onto the ship with her following close behind. They led her into the cabin then, and showed her where a bed and a bathroom were, telling her that she could stay in there until they reached their destination.

The moment she sat down, the first thing she thought to do was pull out her communicator and watch the bars. For the moment, there was nothing, and she put it down in order to look out the window as the boat pulled away from the continent and began moving. Snowball wiggled his way out of her pack, beeping curiously and hovering around her shoulder and looking out the window with her. “I can’t believe we managed to get a ride,” she whispered to the robot in Mandarin, gently patting his head and watching the waves crash against the side of the boat. “That was so lucky.”

For the most part, Mei just watched the freezing ocean out the window as the boat got moving on its journey. Exhausted from the long hike from the ecopoint to the shore, Mei rested her cheek against the cold glass of the window and closed her eyes with a heavy sigh. She glanced down to her communicator to check the current signal again, and when it currently displayed no service, she figured there was no harm in taking a nap, and laid down in the bed, closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep without much effort at all, needing desperately to catch up on her rest.

When she opened her eyes, it was dark inside of the cabin, and she sat up with a small yawn, looking out the window to find a clear sky absolutely full of stars. Mei blinked, a little confused as it had been morning when she fell asleep, and looked down at the communicator again - apparently, she had slept for eighteen hours, as it was currently three in the morning.

And the current signal was four bars.

Mei’s heart began pounding, and she quickly tapped a few buttons, selecting the contact for Watchpoint: Gibraltar, praying that somebody would be awake to take her call at this hour - and had a surge of hope when she remembered that it would be early afternoon in Spain. The call began trying to connect, and she quietly crossed her fingers and toes, pleading quietly with whoever might be listening that the call would be picked up and somebody would talk to her, anybody, she would even converse with an intern at this point, honestly.

* * *

 

Athena was sitting at the table with the other agents as they ate lunch, listening to Lena make jokes and Emily be the only person to laugh at them, and watching Fareeha and Angela flirt with each other and try to be subtle about it. She was just about to say something when she was suddenly cut off, her body vibrating slightly and the screen of her face turning very suddenly into a display of the name and agent identification number of Mei-Ling Zhou, and the AI wasn’t sure to be more confused by the fact that her face was basically a cell phone or the knowledge that anyone at the ecopoint was alive.

The other agents just stared in silence for a while, watching the display on Athena’s face before Winston quickly spoke. “What are you waiting for? Answer it!” He quickly leaned towards her, tilting his head with brows furrowed. With a little panic, Athena struggled for a moment to figure out how she was supposed to answer the call, and just as the final ring began, she managed to bring Mei’s face up on the screen and begin a connection.

“Mei!” Angela spoke quickly, pushing Winston aside a little so that she could be seen and talk. A bright smile was on the doctor’s face as she greeted her old friend. “ _ Mein gott _ , I didn’t… nobody knew anybody was still alive down there. The reports said that all the cryopods malfunctioned, that there weren’t any survivors…” She trailed off, running a hand through her hair and letting out a heavy and shaky sigh. “How are you still alive? What… how did you get some sort of service? Are you not in the ecopoint anymore?” She studied Mei’s face in the screen, as if trying to determine that she was real.

The scientist giggled softly, but looked down with a saddened look on her face at the doctor’s words. She closed her eyes, and let out a soft sigh. “I… somehow, my cryopod didn’t malfunction. I was the only one that survived. Everyone else…” She swallowed heavily, but looked up again with a small smile. A hopeful smile. “I was woken up by Winston’s call, and hiked across Antarctica to get to the shore. A boat was there, and the owner agreed to take me to the United States. I should be in Los Angeles in about a week. Would anyone be able to pick me up there and bring me back to the watchpoint? I want to help however I can to get Overwatch back on its feet, and I have some data from the nine years I was in cryostasis that I think could help save so many lives.”

Winston smiled brightly, and didn’t hesitate to nod enthusiastically. “Of course! We’ll be able to send a few people over to Hollywood to collect you, and then we can go over the data together and try to get it in the hands of someone that can truly do something about it. Just stay calm, Mei, and try to lay low. It’s been almost a decade since you were in public, so it might be strange for you to suddenly show up.”

The scientist nodded, looking almost excessively happy at finally speaking to her friends and coworkers again; and honestly, Athena couldn’t blame her. “I will keep quiet, I promise it! I will keep in touch with you, and let you know where I am at all times so that you will know where to find me when you arrive.” There was a moment’s pause before she spoke again, sounding a little choked up now. “I am so happy to talk to all of you again. It has been a rather lonely time, even with Snowball.” A small robot then popped up underneath her face, apparently at the mention of its name, and gave off a few enthusiastic beeping noises, apparently pleased to see some new friends.

“We’re very happy to see you too, dear,” Ana Amari spoke from the background, speaking up a little bit so that she could be heard over Angela and Winston. Her hand was held by Reinhardt underneath the table, and a gentle, almost motherly smile was on her face. “I cannot wait to see you alive and well again, Dr. Zhou. You are not the first of us to rise from the dead in a while.”

Mei blinked, apparently a little confused; Athena wasn’t sure why for a moment, but then she remembered that Ana had gone missing in action eight years ago; almost a full year after the scientists at the ecopoint had gone into cryostasis. “I think,” she began speaking slowly, a little quietly and in a concerned tone, “that we have a lot to catch up on when we meet again.”

“We do, Mei, we do. Make sure that you keep in touch, alright? Tell us when you have landed in the United States, and we will finalize a plan to pick you up then.” Winston had the final word, and when Mei nodded seriously and saluted in a joking manner, Athena cut off the call. She felt a little dizzy at first, struggling to orientate herself as her face screen turned back to her logo, but luckily it didn’t take very long for her vision to unblur and her thoughts to get back into order.

Athena could feel Zenyatta rest a hand on her shoulder, and she quickly turned her head in order to watch him carefully for a moment. “Perhaps we can find a better way to communicate with fellow agents than using Athena? She seems to be a little out of sorts, and that was quite invasive.”

“I wasn’t expecting for that to happen. I didn’t even know your body had that function, but it must be part of your program. I’m sorry, Athena. I can try to fix it.” Winston reached out for her, and carefully took hold of her wrist.

The AI shook her head, though, and would have smiled if she was able to. “No. I will get used to it. And I would like to be around for agents like Dr. Zhou when others are sleeping.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fareeha gets a call in the middle of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hal-fred announced as the 27th hero!!!!1!!!111!

Fareeha was awoken by a harsh buzzing at the side of her bed, her phone ringing late into the night as she opened her eyes hesitantly and considered for several moments whether or not she wanted to untangle herself from Angela and answer the phone. She groaned slightly, not really wanting to wake or leave her girlfriend but wriggling over so that she could turn over and grab the phone, hitting the button to answer without looking at the caller ID and holding herself up with one elbow as the older woman snuggled up to her back and tightened her grip around her. “Hello?”

The woman on the other end of the line sounded bored, a classic dead inside secretary who spoke with a flat tone that suggested she wanted this conversation to be over with. “Are you Fareeha Amari, former agent of Helix Security?” she asked, and after Fareeha affirmed this with a quiet ‘mmhmm,’ dropped right into a speech that she suspected had been scripted. “I am the security of Hal-fred Glitchbot, successful and popular film director. Mr. Glitchbot has requested that the best of the best accompany him to his trailer at the Mandarin Theater in Los Angeles, California, this coming Friday, in order to protect him from anti-omnic protestors that may feel threatened by his presence in the city and upcoming films. Your records suggest that you have a wonderful track record. Mr. Glitchbot would be happy to pay you for your troubles and pay for your transportation as well.”

“How did you get my personal number?” was the first question that left Fareeha’s mouth, as thoughts raced through her head. Obviously, she was worried about how exactly the secretary of a Hollywood film director had gotten her hands on her phone number, but for the most part she was considering how that would fit in with her duties to Overwatch. Mei would need to be picked up from Los Angeles around the same time as that - it would just be convenient for her to be in the area at the time. Not to mention protecting an omnic film director from those who wished him harm might be a good first actual paid mission to succeed on. God, the payment just made it all the more tempting - Overwatch wasn’t as high scale as it was before, and the funding needed to come from somewhere, even if it wasn’t a lot and didn’t come from something like the United Nations.

Before the woman could respond and explain how she got the ability to call Fareeha, though, the agent responded again. “I would be happy to escort Mr. Glitchbot, as long as I can bring a small group along to assist. About what day would we need to be there, and about how much would we be paid?” As much as she didn’t want to, Fareeha moved so that Angela let go of her and walked over to the desk in the room, where a notepad and pen sat. She scribbled down a couple of the details she’d learned thus far, and listened while taking notes as the secretary began talking once more.

“You would need to be there next Sunday, November 1st, at noon Pacific time. The pay would be around three hundred American dollars per person. I don’t know how that would translate into your currency, but hopefully that would be reasonable.” Fareeha thought on that for a moment; she wasn’t sure how much that would translate either, but she knew that would probably be enough to fund materials for some of the repairs that needed to be done around the watchpoint. 1,800 American dollars could probably go a long way, even if it might be underpaying.

“Okay. Six of us will be there then. Thank you for contacting me.” Fareeha spoke with a smile appearing across her lips, scribbling down the last of her notes - the last statement a reminder to look up how much $1,800 was in Euros. The woman made an affirming sound, promised to let Mr. Glitchbot know of the plan, and hung up. Fareeha was a little jittery with excitement, though that faded a little when she realized that she was far from someone in a position of power, and she may have made a promise to somebody that needed her help that she would be unable to keep…

She was pulled out of her thoughts and a little startled when she felt careful arms wrap around her middle, though she could tell easily who it was when a warm forehead pressed against her back. “Come back to bed,” Angela grumbled sleepily, and when Fareeha looked back at her she realized the older woman hadn’t even opened her eyes. “too late to talking on phone,” she murmured, her words a little slurred and her English suffering from her sleepiness. Fareeha’s heart melted a little at how adorable her girlfriend was, and gently lifted her up into her arms.

Angela snuggled against her shoulder, and Fareeha made her way back to the bed. The sleepiness of her girlfriend was enough to remind her that it was, actually, pretty late - and that she had been woken up suddenly by the phone call. Her excitement was wearing off into tiredness, and after setting Angela down onto the soft blankets, she didn’t hesitate before crawling on next to her and spooning her carefully, curling around the shorter woman protectively and nuzzling her face in her hair.

It didn’t take long at all for the blonde to fall back asleep, gentle snoring sounding from her - she must have been woken up by Fareeha’s talking on the phone, and only moved to get her to go back to sleep. The taller of the two gently squeezed the love of her life, letting out a small, gentle yawn before closing her eyes. Even with her body being as tired as it was, though, her thoughts didn’t stop; she was already making plans on how to get six agents to Los Angeles without raising suspicion, already thinking about the best combination of operatives to send…

In the middle of all this thinking, however, she somehow managed to pass out.

* * *

 

“Guess who got us a mission last night?”

Winston was a little startled when Fareeha rushed into the dining hall with such a pep in her step, used to that kind of behavior only coming from Lena - and he was also pretty surprised that she had entered still in her pajamas and without Angela. Usually, she refused to face anyone in public without being dressed and groomed properly and professionally and then walked in for breakfast with her girlfriend on her arm. This mission she mentioned must have really been interesting.

“Tell us more!” Reinhardt spoke with enthusiasm, slamming his fist down onto the sturdy metal table in front of him. Bastion let out a startled beep, Torbörn rested a hand on the omnic’s arm, and Emily nearly jumped out of her seat. The former crusader glanced at his startled friends, and grumbled out a “sorry,” sitting back down quickly with his cheeks a little pink - Winston couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, hiding his mouth behind one hand to avoid embarrassing him.

“Around three in the morning, I got a call from Hal-fred Glitchbot’s secretary. I’m assuming you all know who he is, he’s a really well known omnic director in America?” She shook her head slightly, and put a hand up. “Doesn’t matter if you do. She requested that I travel to Los Angeles, California in the United States next Sunday to escort Glitchbot from a meeting back to his trailer at a nearby theater to protect him from any anti-omnic protesters who might want to do him harm because of a couple movies of his that are coming out. It’s around the same time we’ll need to be in that city to pick up Mei anyway, and the pay is about three hundred American dollars per person. If we take six, it could supply enough to at least pay for some material for a few of the repairs that need to get done.”

Immediately, Winston’s brain broke into considering whether or not that was a good idea. Sending six Overwatch agents to one place at the same time would probably look a little suspicious - they didn’t have enough newer recruits to sprinkle in to water it down a little. They did need the money, however, and in a better world it would be good for publicity…

“Okay, we’ll do it,” he announced with a nod as he looked back up at Fareeha. “Obviously, we need to send you, but we also need to figure out five other people that could go. We could send Angela alongside you, and you can probably act like it’s some sort of couple’s retreat… Lena and Emily too, fitting in with that theme. Why you would all be armored in public is another story, but that could at least get you there safely, and Emily needs some field training, anyway. Torbjörn could go along with you, as well as Reinhardt, to balance out the abilities of everyone on the team…”

He trailed off in order to think for a moment, but before he could get very far, he was interrupted by a sudden ringing noise sounding from Athena beside him. He turned his head quickly, finding Mei’s picture and identification number displayed for just a moment before the AI answered the call and a live video was displayed instead - it hadn’t taken her long to get used to that, had it? “Mei! We were just talking about something involving you,” Fareeha spoke with a bright smile, moving around the table in order to lean on Winston’s shoulder and see her face to face. “Do you know when you’ll be in America?”

“That’s actually what I was calling to tell you about!” Mei seemed a little surprised. Whether that was because of the uncanny coincidence or because of Fareeha looking so different from her usual self, Winston wasn’t entirely sure. “I asked the captain a few hours after we hung up the other day, and he said that we should be arriving in Los Angeles next Friday, October 31st. Halloween.” There was a moment’s hesitation before she spoke again, a little unsurely. “Is there an issue with transportation?”

“No! The exact opposite, actually,” Winston put a hand up, trying to seem reassuring. “We were talking about it, because we knew you were coming in next week, and Fareeha got a message about a mission that would take place next week in the exact same city. She accepted it because we were going to be in the area anyway to retrieve you around that time, and we’re discussing a plan now. Would you be willing to wait in the city a couple of days? Do you have any money on you?”

“I have a little, but it’s renmibi,” Mei was smiling, though, so it didn’t seem to be much of an issue. “Los Angeles is a big tourist destination, though, so I’m sure I’ll be able to get it transferred into American money without much hassle. There should at least be enough to pay for a hotel room and some food, anyway.” Snowball peeked up from the corner of the screen, and Mei rested her hand on its head as she grinned. “I can’t wait to see you all again!”

“We can’t wait to see you either, Mei.” Winston couldn’t help but feel calm, happy, as he looked at his old friend - alive and giddy. “We have a lot of preparing to do, though, so we’re going to go ahead and hang up the call. We’ll keep in touch, okay? Call again if anything changes.”

“I will!” Mei nodded enthusiastically, and waved goodbye before hanging up. The screen on Athena’s face faded to black, and her logo reappeared where Mei’s face had just been - she was a little wobbly for a moment, but seemed to be back to normal within moments.

Winston waited for just a second, letting the last few minutes sink in, before turning quickly to the other agents in the room, spotting Angela walk into the dining hall in the middle of tying her hair into its usual ponytail. “Okay, team, we have our work cut out for us here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> small shoutout to SamSpirit for leaving a comment on almost every single chapter since i started the fic back up! thank you, friend!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mei is picked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dude i wrote this so late at night i don't even remember half of it

The magic of being reunited with her old friends was dampened slightly by the reality that had hit her in the few days she had waited for them. There had been a bit of inflation, everything seeming a little more expensive than it had been when she went into cryostasis - but even above that, subtle changes to the world around her told her that she had been gone almost a decade. New pop culture, new fashions, new almost everything. She was lost, even with a map of Los Angeles in her hand every day, even after going to see one of the movies that Hal-fred Glitchbot was apparently going under attack over.

The plan, as described to her by Winston and Pharah, was to meet at Galand’s at half past five after their mission, and Mei simply sat down in a chair in the corner, waiting for her friends to show up and trying to be happy that she was about to be taken back to the watchpoint where she could be surrounded by things that made at least a little sense. Sorting through all the data gathered at the ecopoint over the last nine years? That was something that would make sense, something that wouldn’t require her to talk to people. Maybe she could even convince Athena to brief her on everything she missed.

She wanted to get herself a drink, but she knew that she would probably be ID’d and she wasn’t willing to get in trouble by flashing the Overwatch ID card in her pocket. According to pretty much everyone’s warnings, Overwatch was now illegal and any activity hinting to it could be punished by prosecution. Mei needed to pack lightly for her journey across Antarctica, and the thought to pack a ton of her old identification never crossed her mind. She wished it had, because now she was going to have to either lay low or talk to the Chinese government to try and get some evidence she was legally alive.

She was startled out of her thoughts when the sounds of a group laughing and talking loudly together entered the bar. Mei jumped slightly and looked up, finding five former Overwatch agents and one redheaded new girl entering. Angela rushed over to her first, wrapping her arms around her in a tight hug; Lena followed suit quickly, followed by Reinhardt, and pretty soon they had a group hug with Fareeha, a redhead she didn’t know but had seen in the calls sitting by Lena’s side, and Torbjorn standing to the side a little awkwardly.

Mei felt a little bit awkward surrounded by her old friends, but couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, relieved to finally be around people who knew her and knew what was happening to her. The bartender looked over to them with an eyebrow raised, but Galand’s was slow enough today that he didn’t seem to feel the need to ask them to quiet down. “Oh my God, I’m so glad to see you,” Angela breathed out, pulling away to look her over with a smile and concerned blue eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see a friendly face, Dr. Ziegler,” Mei spoke, a grin still on her face as she looked over her friends. “Actually, many happy faces… you all have so much to catch me up on!” The other agents all separated from her, and Angela linked her own arm through the scientist’s. Lena dashed over to the redhead and dragged her over to Mei. Suddenly, she felt a little shy, faced with someone that she hadn’t met before - but the former pilot was prepared to change that.

“Mei, this is Emily, my girlfriend!” She puffed her chest out with pride, and Mei let out a small, awkward laugh before extending her hand and shaking Emily’s. Indistinct chatter evolved rather easily after the introduction was out of the way, and the group moved together out of the bar and to the hotel where everyone was set to stay the night - technically, they could have taken the dropship back to the watchpoint without much difficulty, but nobody really wanted to be in the air late at night directly after a mission, for fear of the only one capable of or willing to fly falling asleep.

As happy was she was to be around familiar faces that understood that she had been, for all intents and purposes, dead for almost a decade - she couldn’t help but get a little overwhelmed by the amount of information that was being spilled to her. She was jealous that her friends had gotten to experience all this time firsthand - and she was sad that she hadn’t been around to experience it with them. More than anything else, though, she was devastated that the other scientists from the watchpoint weren’t here with her to laugh off their accidental “oversleeping” and catch up as well.

There was nothing that she could do to change what had happened, though - and she needed to remember that the deaths of her friends weren’t her fault, that the fact that she was alive right now was nothing but lucky chance and it wasn’t like somebody had methodically turned off all the cryopods and chose to spare only one of the ecopoint scientists. There had been malfunctions over the course of nine years - it wasn’t like the machines could choose to spare her out of spite.

She took a deep breath as they approached the hotel, and trailed after her friends, much quieter and sadder than she had been when they left Galand’s.

* * *

 

After returning to the watchpoint, Mei barely paused to claim her room before she made her way into Winston’s office to hog the massive computer there and began working with the data that the ecopoint had gathered during cryostasis. She worked tirelessly to sort through the information, organize it by type and in chronological order, making it so that she could present it efficiently to whoever would listen. Lives were on the line. The environment was on the line. Her promise to her dead friends was on the line. She could not afford to take breaks or stop working for even a moment.

She lost track of how long she had been working, trying to make countless charts and spreadsheets and put them all together in a presentation, but she did know that it had been a long time judging purely by the changing lighting coming in from the windows and the fact that sleep deprivation began to catch up with her after a while. Mei was practically falling asleep on the keyboard - she was a scientist, but she couldn’t deny that after a long time numbers and data started to get boring.

“It has been seventy two hours since the last time you slept, Dr. Zhao.”

She jumped rather violently at the sudden sound of Athena’s voice, her head turning quickly and her eyes meeting a robot with a screen displaying the AI’s logo. She hadn’t been spending a lot of time around her fellow agents, only walking away from the computer to eat briefly, so she wasn’t quite used to what used to be a disembodied voice now being, well, embodied. Mei opened her mouth to respond, assure her that she was going to get some sleep, but the machine interrupted her before she could.

“I understand that you are about to assure me that you are going to get sleep soon. That you are just going to finish what you are working on. However, I do really need to intervene now. Going any longer with no sleep could have serious repercussions to your mental and physical health.” A moment of silence, before Athena continued to talk. “Are there psychological reasons behind your sleep deprivation, or is it purely a longing to achieve your goals? You are not on a time limit, you know. The end of the world as we know it will not come if your data is not released quickly.”

The scientist sighed heavily, resting her head in her hands and closing her eyes for a moment - though that proved itself quickly to be a bad idea, as she very nearly dozed off just from doing that. As she thought on what the artificial intelligence said for a few moments, a realization hit her very quickly, and very suddenly, and she jerked upright with her eyes much more bright and alive.

That was it. She was going about this the wrong way. She was trying to make it so that she could release nine years’ worth of data in a day. If she could do this more slowly - more subtly - she could have much the same effect on the world as she would throwing it all out there, if not more. “That’s it, Athena, you’re a genius!” she squealed out, grabbing her by the shoulders and grinning like a madwoman. “Do you think it would be possible to leak little bits of data at a time to news sources and environmentalists? That would put it in important hands, and reduce the current workload.”

Athena was silent for a few moments, and Mei watched as the screen on her face went dark and white letters filled the space at an alarming rate. A little startled, the scientist released her and took a couple of steps back, a little nervous that she had caused her friend to malfunction, but almost as soon as it had started the code disappeared and her logo reappeared. “I am capable of hacking into various international news stations and implanting the information into their scripts. The only thing necessary would be to put it in easily digestible formats so that the newscasters can speak and the general public will understand.” She tilted her head. “Dr. Zhou, this could be rather risky. We may be caught.”

“You’re a supercomputer, and I trust you even if you were a cheap old laptop,” Mei’s voice was warm and full of relief and exhaustion. She almost wanted to grab Athena and smooch her, but she resisted, mostly because she didn’t know what effect that would have on her screen or ability to see. “Okay, as long as you’re willing to help me, we can do this. Would you like to help me sort through the data? I may be a human, but I hardly know where to start.”

“Of course.” The artificial intelligence moved to stand behind Mei’s shoulder as she spun around to face the screen once more, opening the flash drive to the beginning of the files. She had already sorted through all of the information - all that was left to do, really, was just to plant the seeds of knowledge so that they could grow. “This is very efficient,” she hummed in approval, before pointing at a file. “It may be best to begin with the more simple, more recent information, so that it feels more urgent.”

Together, the two of them discussed the best ways to leak the information, with Mei offering a human and emotional aspect to the knowledge and Athena bringing logic into the discussion. The subject of the scientist getting some sort of sleep was forgotten for hours, the two of them too wrapped up in their project until the adrenaline wore off and sleep deprivation suddenly hit Mei like a truck. She let out a loud and long yawn, and Athena stalled after that, reaching over to save and close their work before calmly putting the computer to sleep and putting a metal hand on Mei’s shoulder.

“I apologize. I was the one to suggest that you get sleep, and here I am, keeping you awake,” the artificial intelligence apologized, sounding a little sheepish as she gently pulled the scientist to her feet. “Come on. I will get you to your room, and I fully expect for you to get a full night’s sleep at least. You have a lot to catch up on, and we can continue our work when you wake.”

The scientist simply nodded with another yawn, and allowed Athena to lead her off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mei athena friendship WHEN


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sombra has a meeting. Widowmaker has a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> widow is my favorite character tbfh

Sombra did not like having meetings so close to wherever she was at the moment, but hey, there was no sense in travelling too far if they were both in the same general area. She sat at the bar, ordered another cosmo, and when her drink was set down in front of her, she turned to the man sitting next to her and raised an eyebrow. “You know, the hood makes you look more suspicious than if you just showed your face. It’s been a long enough time that I doubt you’d be recognized easily,” she commented, taking a sip of her drink and tapping her nails against the bar.

“This close to finishing off my goal of the last decade? I don’t think so. I’m not taking any chances.” The man picked up the glass of wine he’d ordered and took a swig of the red liquid inside. He was trying to act calm and collected, but Sombra had been reading people since she was a child, and she could see the stress on his face, hidden in brown eyes and ever so slightly shaky hands. “Did you do what you said you would last time we spoke?” It had been a little over a month since their last meeting, and since they parted, neither of them had really stopped working.

She nodded, leaning her elbow on the table so that she could face her ally a little easier. She downed a little more of her cosmo, knowing that she was going to need as much alcohol as she could get to make it through this. She tried to pretend that she wasn’t, but Sombra was stressed. Talon was a massive organization, and she knew that they weren’t above reprehensible acts like torturing a woman for ten years just for being married to a man that was irritating them - let  _ alone _ for working with them for a long time only to betray them and take away a high ranking agent.

“I lessened the level of brainwashing that they poured into her and switched up the doctors in charge of her case so that it wouldn’t be immediately noticeable. I’ve noticed little differences in her behaviors that kind of hint that it’s working.” She took another sip of her cosmo, pinching the bridge of her nose before she let out a small sigh. “You know that it’s not simple, even with that, right? It’s… the psychological effects are more dramatic than something that can just be fixed with a kiss and an ‘I love you’ and all that crap.” Violet eyes looked into brown, and the man looked… determined.

“I know. You don’t need to tell me that much. I’ve been watching her for a long enough time that I can tell…” He shook his head. “I know she’s still in there, though. I can tell. She’s… different from who she was before, but she’s still so much like her old self.” Damn, this guy was determined - and the fact that he had been watching so intently was enough to raise a couple of red flags in Sombra’s mind. She ignored those, though. It was healthier than Gabe’s obsession with killing former Overwatch members.

The two of them sat together in uncomfortable silence for a while then, sipping their alcohol. Another word was not spoken until the man finished his wine and finally said something - thank god, on the topic of their shared goal. “I guess all that’s left to do is set up a fake mission for her.” He refused to call her by the name forced onto her by Talon, and Sombra could understand that, honestly. “I trust that you can hack into whatever device she uses and forge a pretty good briefing?”

“That might be a bit of a problem. Usually, missions are given to her in person. That’s how it tends to go unless she’s off base for whatever reason, and she isn’t usually even permitted to leave… although I suppose I can pretend that it was for the sake of saving time.” A moment of silence passed between the two, a terrible thought festering in Sombra’s head until she could no longer hold it in. “Her phone is closely tracked. I’m the best of the best at what I do, but I don’t even know if I can keep the fake mission safe from Talon’s eyes for too long. The recalled agents could be in danger if they’re found out.”

The look on the man’s face became grim, and Sombra could at least assume what was going through his head. He wanted so badly to save the woman he loved, and nothing was going to stop him - he just wanted to make sure that she was safe and would never be hurt by Talon again, even if he had to throw his old friends in the way of danger to do so. This theory was only proven when he spoke. “If I can bring her back home, if I can make sure that she will be safe, then it will be worth it.”

“You have a very one track mind,  _ amigo _ .” Sombra’s words were dry and a little sarcastic, and she turned back to the bartender in order to purchase a second cosmopolitan. “Okay, I can make sure that she’s assigned a fake mission to snipe somebody at the watchpoint. The question, though, is who.”

He seemed reluctant to put one of his friends out there to almost be shot down, and heavy silence passed between them for a while as he, too, purchased another glass of wine. Sombra sipped at her second drink with one leg crossed over the other, leaning against the bar and watching the man think until he finally opened his mouth. “I think that Angela Ziegler would be a good option. She is known to be Overwatch’s most skilled doctor, especially now that there’s only a few of them on the base. I think everyone will make sure that nothing happens to her, though, and I know she’ll listen to me.”

The hacker had her doubts, but she would keep quiet about them. She had no emotional attachment to anybody on the watchpoint - only to the woman that they were planning to save. So she nodded slowly, put down her now empty cosmo glass, and gave her ally a sly smile. “Alright. You had better find some way to leak this information to your friends, though, because regardless of whether or not she’s getting better, she’s dangerous, and she’s got flawless aim.” She slid off of the barstool to her feet, and bowed sarcastically to the man. “Good luck.”

* * *

 

She was on a massive stage, the seats before her filled with faceless people covered in shadows. The lights above her were burning hot, her legs were exhausted, but all she knew to do was continue to dance. One, two, three, one, two, three, it was eerily silent in the theater, but that didn’t matter, because she needed to continue dancing. Her chest and head were filled with a sense of urgency, and she didn’t know why - all she knew to do was continue moving her feet to the rhythm of a song that wasn’t there, her posture perfect, her breathing steady.

Widowmaker knew the moves better than she knew herself - they were ingrained into her very soul. This had been her final performance, her final dance before she became the perfect killer; it was the only thing that kept her tied to her humanity, or at least, the only thing that she was willing to admit to herself. She had gone from Odette to Odile, but still, the music was within her, and the movements were an extension of her very body. The judgement of the faceless audience was harsh, but it began to matter less and less to her as she danced.

When she opened her eyes at last, she was not Widowmaker, but Amélie Lacroix. She could feel the change in her chest, her breathing, the way she moved - but she could feel herself trip up when she looked over the audience and found that they were the faces that still haunted her. The faces of everyone that she had killed. So many that she could not count them, but she still remembered all of their names. So many former Overwatch agents, so many Talon traitors, so many people that had somehow inconvenienced the organization that owned her.

And right there in the front row was Gérard, his face stoic and cold.

She tried to continue dancing, because as a prima ballerina - as a sniper - that was what she was meant to do. To continue moving, keep the flow going no matter what befell her. The stress of knowing that so many of her victims were watching her, though, threw her off. The knowledge that they probably were waiting to enact their revenge for all of the pain that she had caused fell heavily upon her shoulders made her stumble. Her movements became less smooth, less graceful, until she could feel a heavy  _ crack _ in her ankle and fell heavily to the ground, her hair falling from its neat bun to fall across the wooden floor behind her in a heavy wave as her skin turned cold and blue again.

Widowmaker grunted softly as she pulled herself up into a sitting position, glancing down at the sad swollen state of her ankle before she thought to look back up at the shadowed silhouettes and found that they had risen to their feet. There was no concern in their expressions, no emotion at all as they approached the stage. The assassin tried to scramble back to escape, eyes wide and horrified.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to - I never wanted to her anybody -,” she stammered out, continuing to try and back up until her bottom snagged against her own hair and she fell, landing heavily onto her back, the wind knocked out of her as she let out a small groan. Her eyes closed for a split second, and when she opened them again, the audience was standing over her. She was shaking in terror, but there was a slight peace to her horror - she deserved whatever was coming for her now.

The last thing she saw was Gérard’s face rushing toward her own before she sat up quickly with a soft gasp, disoriented as she looked around and took in her changed surroundings.

She was back in the master bedroom of the chateau, moonlight spilling in through the massive windows and her long hair clinging to her face, stuck there by a cold sweat. Breathing more erratically than she was supposed to be able to, Widowmaker quickly stood onto shaking feet, trying to take deep breaths to calm herself down as she tested her ankle, finding that it was now healed and fine.

It was just a dream. None of it was real. Her hands were shaking as she reminded herself of this, pulling her hair back and tying it easily into a bun with a hair tie grabbed from the nightstand. She walked across the room on unsteady legs, grabbing her phone from the dresser and quickly unplugging it from its charger before unlocking it and checking on anything she might have missed. That would calm her down. Losing herself to her work always calmed her down - or at least distracted her, pushed it down so that she didn’t have to deal with it until a later date.

As usual, there was very little that she missed - a few notifications from the news, to texts from Gabriel in the group chat being passive aggressive about something Sombra did, and a singular email simply titled “MEMO.” With an eyebrow raised, the assassin tapped to read it, and as she scanned the information held in the email she felt a sick feeling beginning to develop in her stomach.

If her superiors wanted it done, though, they wanted it done, and she would make sure it was taken care of if she was entrusted with it.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally i was going to reveal who the mysterious man is in the next chapter buuuuuuuut

Widowmaker thought it a bit odd that the trip to Gibraltar was going to be only her and Sombra. For their little espionage mission, it made sense, since there wasn’t going to be anything terribly urgent in any situation that may arise - but for a mission where she was supposed to assassinate a high profile member of Overwatch, it was a little weird. She had learned long, long ago to not question it when Talon gave her odd demands; it was nothing new for them to tell her to do something unwise or unrealistic. More often than not she was punished for even thinking about disobeying, so to cooperate was best.

The idea that Talon’s council wanted her to go to Watchpoint Gibraltar in order to take down Dr. Angela Ziegler, though, was less surprising. At least two members of the council had some form of grudge against her, and she was a central member of the organization if Overwatch was truly trying to reboot with the limited members it was down to. If anything, it made the fact that there were only two of them going to the rock even weirder. Dr. O’Deorain would probably want to be there, at least, to watch the life disappear from her eyes and her body go cold.

She didn’t enjoy her job. She really didn’t. Something was off with her reconditioning - she was feeling more guilt than usual for those that had already died, mourning for Gérard, afraid of her superiors. Every possible thing that could haunt her at the moment was doing its best to make sure that she was suffering. Ten years of being a member of Talon had treated her decently well on how to deal with this - ignore it, push it down, talk to Dr. O’Deorain as soon as she got back on base so that she could be put under and returned to her usual cold and emotionless husk.

As much as she disliked the suffering and torture that came with her frequent reconditioning, she had to admit that it was what kept her sane. It was what kept her  _ going. _ She couldn’t imagine what her life would be like right now if she  _ wasn’t _ tortured and made emotionless on a daily basis - she didn’t want to deal with the pain that it would inevitably come from. The idea of feeling as much as she once had… it terrified her. She could almost sense the feeling of agony in her chest just considering the idea.

The sniper was brought out of her thoughts by the sudden feeling of the airship landing. Widowmaker blinked and looked up, glancing out the window to the endless sea of crashing waves and then towards her companion. Sombra had stood up from her seat and stretched, and she was quick in offering her hand for the assassin to take - the older of the two did exactly that, more out of knowledge that it was polite than anything else. “We probably should set up camp for the night. I don’t doubt your ability to shoot someone down in the middle of the night,  _ araña, _ but the doc probably isn’t about to leave the base this late, and I don’t think we wanna break any windows.”

She was right - that would make too much noise, draw too much attention to them and their dropship. Widowmaker said nothing, only nodded in response, and walked out of the ship calmly - as soon as she stepped onto the gravel and the hacker followed, the aircraft had lifted up off of the ground and took back off into the sky. “The perimeters of the watchpoint stretch across the entire island. Is there anywhere safe for us to spend the night?”

“A majority of the building still hasn’t had power restored to it, and this place is way too big for half of the agents to even consider doing a full patrol. I don’t think they suspect anyone has figured out that they’re trying to recall.” Sombra pulled up her screen, absentmindedly typed out a message of some sort, and then closed it quickly. Widowmaker typically would have questioned how discreet she was trying to be with that, considering they had very little to hide from one another, but she knew that the shorter woman would never disclose any form of secret to her if she was already trying to keep it. “If we sneak in a back door, nobody would notice us in the hangar or something.”

“That sounds rather foolish,” Widowmaker spoke, crossing her arms over her chest and keeping her cold yellow gaze on Sombra as she passed her and began walking along the side of the watchpoint. The sniper hesitated for a moment before she followed the hacker, glancing at the brightly lit windows behind them as they walked into the darkness. “Surely they would be more careful.”

“You would think,” was all Sombra said at first, and in the darkness the various electronic pieces along her body began to glow. It was enough to guide them through the night, but not enough to call any attention - a clever touch, Widowmaker had to admit. “I think the only real explanation is that they feel safe right now. Like it’s unlikely anybody would try to hurt them, and like it’s impossible for anyone that would want that to know where they are.” Another moment of silence. “Man, the death of the doc is  _ really _ going to hit them hard.”

“Is that not the point?” She was aware of how cold her voice sounded, but if anything… she was relieved to hear that familiar uncaring tone when speaking about the death of another. The inevitable demise of someone that used to be her friend.

Used to be.

Widowmaker couldn’t deny that a part of her blamed the good doctor for the fate that ultimately befell her and her husband - if Angela had looked just a little bit underneath the surface, she might have spotted that something was wrong. If Dr. Ziegler had been more careful, none of this would have happened. She might be living a normal life right now.

So she held that grudge, and she held it tight.

* * *

 

He had done plenty of hiding out around the base, of course, just watching his former friends sort out how they were going to bring back Overwatch - he wanted to be a little aware of what was going on, in case he wanted to join back after he brought his wife to safety and made sure that she was doing better. Even with all of his watching, however, he had not actually  _ entered _ the watchpoint in the last decade, so actually stepping into one of the darkened hallways felt a little strange and wrong.

The man could still walk through the building blindfolded, though, so he did not struggle in making his way down to the med bay. Putting the information in Angela’s office was probably the best idea - he knew that she would at least listen to the instructions, and would exercise caution in doing so; the doctor was a curious soul, and would at least wonder why she was being asked to go outside to a certain area at a certain time - but that curiosity didn’t lessen her caution, so it would be likely for her to fight back or flee at the first sight of danger.

The door was closed, and he paused outside of it in order to listen for any signs that somebody was awake and moving inside. The man listened for a few moments, hearing only silence on the other side, and he was quiet and careful as he pushed the office door open slowly, slipping into the room with all the swiftness of a shadow and glancing around one more time to make sure that nobody was inside. Surely enough, the room was dark and empty - which was to be expected, since it was now getting close to midnight and any sane working adult would probably be asleep by now.

Good thing he was neither sane nor working.

He slipped over to the wooden desk underneath a window, and dug around in one of the drawers for a moment in order to find some paper and a pen. Quickly, he scrawled a message for the doctor -  _ just outside of Winston’s office, 5 o’clock sharp in the evening - be careful. _ His handwriting was much messier than he would like to admit at the moment, but he was in enough of a rush and worried enough about getting caught that he wasn’t going to let himself worry about it.

Quickly, he pulled out his screen in order to send a quick message to Sombra telling her that the information was set up for Angela Ziegler to find. Her response was quick - “we are hiding out near strike commander’s old office, arrived safely and dropship should be crashing soon.” The man typed out an affirmation before quickly pocketing his phone again and quickly slipping out of the office.

The hallways were quiet and dark, and the only sounds made were the faint footsteps from the man’s shoes as he made his way over to the exit. He decided that it might be best to leave through Winston’s office, since apparently Sombra and Widowmaker were in the more abandoned area and he didn’t want to be caught before their plan could come to fruition. He was a little bit less careful leaving than he was entering, considering he was in a hurry to leave, but he was forced to slow to a stop and duck behind a blackboard when he heard voices in the loft - he recognized one as Athena’s calm and flat tone, and the other as… Mei-Ling Zhou? 

He didn’t know why he was surprised - it wasn’t like she was the first person from the old days of Overwatch to suddenly come back to life. He was supposed to be dead, as were Ana Amari and Gabriel Reyes - he even had a sneaking suspicion that Jack Morrison was somewhere as well. He was still determined to leave the watchpoint, but now he was more careful in doing so, making sure to stay out of the line of sight of the loft’s windows, slinking over to the exit of the watchpoint.

As he exited the base and stepped into the cool November night, the man let out a sigh of relief. He couldn’t help but feel a little nervous about the upcoming day, though - he had been trying to find all the information he needed for ten years. He had been pretending to be dead for so long that he no longer really knew how he was supposed to fit into the world of the living, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to talk to or apologize to the friends that had been mourning his death for so long.

He hesitated for a moment before walking towards the building that he remembered his locker being. He had “died” a few years before Overwatch fell, yes, but he was curious to find out if any of his belongings were still in the building where he had been briefed on countless missions and walked to the barracks from. That was where he had found out that his wife was missing, and where he had researched endlessly for months before she returned. The watchpoint held so many memories, some good, some bad, and being back here - it was a little weird.

He remembered exactly where his locker was, and when he tried the same combination, it swung open with the faint creak of rusted metal. It held a pile of manila folders at the bottom, and hanging up on one of the hooks was a black trenchcoat. He lifted the coat off, and pulled it over his shoulders quickly, sighing a little at the familiar feeling of the heavy material on his body.

The man lifted one of the folders, opening it and pulling out the packet of paper, glancing over the mission briefing quickly.

_ Gérard Lacroix - Blackwatch Agent - Talon Attack 32. _


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and if there's a reason i'm still alive when everyone who loves me has died...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i almost cried writing this chapter for personal reasons, tbh

It was early in the morning when Angela opened the door to her office and clicked on the fluorescent ceiling light with a small yawn, stretching before closing the door behind her. It didn’t take very long for her to realize that something was a little different, a little off from how she left it the night before - something felt off, invaded. She spotted a piece of paper resting haphazardly on top of her desk, and though her first instinct was to pick it up without reading it and immediately reporting it to Winston, her curiosity overcame her pretty quickly and she read it without much hesitation.

Her first instinct was to be suspicious of the fact that somebody was asking her to go to a specific location at an exact time, and was advising her to be careful at the same time. However, that suspicion gave way to even more curiosity. She folded the paper and put it in the chest pocket of her lab coat, deciding without an awful lot of thought that she was going to cooperate and go outside - although it would be unwise to do so without anybody knowing anything. Perhaps she would tell Ana and have her tag along, since the former captain was the most likely to be willing to watch out for her without telling any of the other agents that she was planning on cooperating with a suspicious note left behind by an unknown person. She was known to keep even the worst secrets.

So with a little bit of anxiety in her chest, Angela went about her day - counting down the hours until she was to step out to the courtyard just outside of Winston’s office and find out what the note was all about. A sick feeling in her stomach told her that it might be a bad idea, but she ignored that for now - she knew that she would be alright with Ana covering her back.

“This does not seem to be a good idea, Angie,” Ana told her when asked, as she slid the paper back to the doctor across the table. The captain leaned back in her chair, a cup of tea held up to her lips as she took a sip and raised an eyebrow at Angela. “If your mind cannot be changed, however, I will watch your back. I would rather you be safer in your bad choices than go alone because I do not approve.”

“Thank you,” the doctor gave her friend a small smile, taking a sip of her own tea as she folded the paper back into a small state before putting it back in her breast pocket. She could feel the disapproving gaze of Ana upon her face, and though she would usually wilt under the power her eyes held over anybody under the age of forty (and, honestly, probably anybody over the age of forty as well), for the moment she was just relieved to know she wouldn’t be throwing herself into danger alone.

* * *

 

For years, Gérard had fantasized about this day. Imagined what he would say, even began writing down a few speech notes on an old paper napkin or two. Now that the moment he would be reunited with his wife was driving closer, however, he couldn’t help but feel anxious - feel terrified - feel a little ill. He and Sombra had made so many precautions, planned this out so thoroughly, but what if none of it worked? What if it was all for naught, and the years she spent under Talon’s thumb overpowered all of the adjustments to her reconditioning, and all of the emotions that he knew - hoped - were just under the surface? He had expected to feel excited - not somber like this.

Sombra seemed to be feeling the same way, from what he could tell from their correspondence throughout the day. Her sentences were more well structured than usual, properly capitalized and punctuated as opposed to the usual all lowercase shorthand that her messages usually consisted of. That alone was enough to hint that she was just as worried. Even with all of this planning and setting things up, at its core, this entire mission - it was all up to Amélie whether or not she would listen to him and choose to leave Talon. So many things could go wrong.

Angela could die. Sombra could die. He could die. Amélie could die. There were so many things that could make everything collapse - he wasn’t  _ stupid, _ he knew that he was playing a risky game in trying to talk sense into a trained assassin that believed she was on a mission for the people that could torture her into submission. He knew that, no matter how much he loved her and no matter how much he hoped she loved him in return (knew she loved him in return, he had seen her carrying around their wedding photo)... there were so many worst case scenarios that he couldn’t bother to count them. That would be even more draining on his mental state than just waiting was.

The moments ticked by at an agonizing pace, and every tick of the clock in the old meeting room he was hiding out in made Gérard feel more and more sick to his stomach until he was a ball of anxiety ready to burst at any given moment. Two hours to go. One hour to go. Thirty minutes to go. Amélie was probably getting into position now. She was so close. It was finally going to be over. Ten years of standing at the sideline and watching her be in pain… it was almost over.

He was running on adrenaline as he walked out of the meeting room, out of the watchpoint and towards the courtyard. Millions of thoughts ran through his head - hundreds of memories from their time together, their first meeting, their wedding day, her in tears because he had been gone for too long again, him in tears because she was in tears, her dancing onstage and him surprising her by kneeling in front of the stage with the engagement ring (with the director’s permission)... 

_ This had better work. _

* * *

 

“I am in position.”

Widowmaker’s words were routine, spoken each and every time she was out on a mission and staring into the red scope of her rifle, waiting for the target to reach their positioning so that she could fire a single deadly bullet into their head and please her keepers so that she could live another day. Her breathing was slow and calm, and all that mattered, all she could think about was the mission.

There was only static on the other end of her comm for a few moments, and she almost thought to get irritated with Sombra over her silence. However, for the sake of efficiency, she remained calm and watching over the courtyard. “Target is on her way. Running late by about a minute or so.” The hacker’s voice was more snippish and sounded more stressed than Widowmaker could remember hearing from her in recent memory, but she didn’t think to question it. Her index finger hovered over her rifle’s trigger, her visor activating in order to let her see Angela Ziegler’s heat signature moving towards the outside.

As the doctor drifted into place in the center of the courtyard, one yellow eye narrowed further and Widowmaker prepared to pull the trigger and complete her mission. As she just began applying pressure to the trigger, though, she was interrupted by the feeling that she was being watched, the sound of footsteps on the ground beside her. The assassin became acutely more aware of her surroundings in this moment, aware of a single strand of hair falling from her ponytail and drifting in front of her face in the breeze. She turned to face the direction of the footsteps, and…

“It has been a long time,  _ chéri _ .” His voice was soft, concerned, as he stepped closer to her. His hands were held in the air, as if to surrender and assure her that he was not there to hurt her - but Widowmaker - Amélie - Widowmaker - knew that he would never harm a hair on her head. Heart pounding in her chest, quicker than it typically would, the sniper took a few steps back, her yellow eyes wide and staring at the man she loved, the man she killed, the man that should definitely not be alive and well and walking towards her right now.

“No,” she managed to stutter out, her gun dropping in her shock and falling with a clatter to the cement far below them. “No, that’s impossible. You’re dead.” Any words that she wanted to say after that got caught in her throat - she could barely think, let alone talk, and she stopped walking as Gérard approached her. She was happy to see him again, furious that her first kill had managed to survive - her callsign was Widowmaker, did that mean that her husband standing in front of her negated her entire identity? Did that mean that all of her suffering was just… pointless?

Increasingly, though, she was beginning to feel like she was more than just Widowmaker. Gérard’s eyes held no malice and his expression held no anger - only tenderness and… love. Sadness, happiness, so many different emotions wrapped up into one that she wasn’t sure how to respond to, or even how to relate to. “Looks like you’re pretty bad at killing me, Amélie,” he commented, soft humor behind his voice. His hands lowered, and he addressed her with a heavy voice - she could hear tears threatening to fall with each word. Once, she might have found that pathetic, a sign of weakness, but now - now she could almost feel tears of her own blinking in the backs of her eyes for the first time in so long.

“I’ve been watching,  _ chéri _ . I know how they’ve hurt you. I know you’re still in there, no matter how much they’ve tried to push you down and replace you with somebody new. I want nothing more than to help you.” He took a small breath, and extended one hand out to her. Time around them seemed to slow down, and the rest of the world seemed to fade away - only she and Gérard were real. Only she and Gérard mattered. He did not move forward any further, only watched her with tear filled brown eyes and one hand held out in the hopes that she would take it. “Please, come with me. I can help keep you safe. You never have to be tortured again. You never have to get hurt again.”

She wanted to take his hand. She did. But something was stopping her. “I am not the same as I was before, Gérard. I am broken.” She watched his face for a few moments, then her gaze shifted down to his hand. So gentle, so loving.  _ She loved him. Even after all this time, she loved him. _

He shook his head. “My darling, you are not broken. Perhaps you are cracked, perhaps you are bent, but you are not broken. You are incredibly strong, incredibly resilient, and I know that you can recover. I have seen you come back from so much - and perhaps this is the worst you’ve been through, but I know that you will be alright.” He stretched his hand out a little further. “ _ Please, _ Amélie. I know you, and I know you never meant to hurt anybody. You never have to do it again. It can all end here.”

Her breathing was slow, shallow, and she wanted nothing more than to take his hand and go with him. There was the fear that something could happen to her, to him - that Talon could just hunt her down, take her away again. But she was willing to give this a chance. The love in her heart for him was real - the guilt that she felt for the many people that she had killed was very real.

She wanted to be with him.

She wanted to get better.

So Widowmaker - no, Amélie - extended her hand and gripped her husband’s.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What? You thought everything was going to be okay like that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fanfic writer rule #1: nobody is allowed to be happy

Ana had pointed out what was happening on the bridge rather early on to Angela, and she had watched in stunned silence as a man she thought was dead made a sniper that terrified anyone that heard of her drop her gun. She watched the couple speak to each other, watched Widowmaker take Gérard’s head and watched them embrace. Ana jumped down from the spot where she was standing, and together the two of them watched a moment that she supposed was definitely supposed to be private. She didn’t entirely know how she was supposed to feel. Whether to be happy, or afraid, or something else.

The moment passed soon enough, though, and the first idea to enter Angela’s head was that she needed to apprehend the Widowmaker and get her safely behind bars before she could do anything else. The doctor didn’t care that she had just embraced Gérard, she knew that there was a very, very real possibility that she was just faking it and was going to enter a killing spree within moments. She thanked her past self for putting on her Valkyrie suit, and flew up rather quickly to her former teammate, instinctively putting herself between the couple before anything bad could happen.

“Angela!” Gérard’s voice sounded equal parts annoyed and happy with a sprinkling of guilt, and the relief of seeing him alive and well wore off rather quickly as she realized that he had let  _ everyone _ believe he was dead and gone for a decade. Ana, at least, had come back on her own in order to help the team, and made it clear that she had at least been a vigilante helping others all this time. What excuse did the Frenchman have for playing dead for a decade and only coming out of hiding for his wife? She understood the love one could feel for their romantic partner, but there wasn’t much room for forgiveness in her heart at the moment. That would have to come with time.

“I will talk to  _ you _ later,” she snapped at him, blue eyes narrowing into a glare before she turned to the sniper. Being this close to the woman responsible for the deaths of so many Overwatch members - so many of her friends - was… unsettling. Her features were that of Amélie Lacroix; the same sharp nose, the same plump lips, the same amber eyes - but at the same time - she was so different, and not just in the changed color of her skin. Her eyes seemed more dead and cold, her posture too straight and unnatural.  _ Mein gott, what happened to you, _ was the first thought that entered her mind - sadness for her old friend now that she was looking at her up close. Still, however, she knew that her team needed protecting.

She waited, for a few moments, for the sniper to say something - anything - to defend herself. All that she saw in her eyes, in her expression, though, was quiet and sad understanding. “Widowmaker,” she addressed the younger woman in a cold tone, watching her shrink into herself a little and glance to her husband as if he could help her right now. “I’m going to have to take you into custody to ensure that you do not cause any harm to the Overwatch members that are here at the moment.”

“Angela -” Gérard began to speak behind her, and she whipped her head around in order to look at him quickly. “I know you’re worried, and I know that you’re a little scared of her, but there’s no reason to be. She’s been brainwashed for ten years, and it’s just beginning to be lessened. She’s not going to hurt anybody, nothing is going to happen -”

“Stop it, Gérard.” She was a little startled by the sound of Widowmaker’s voice. Only the slightest hint of emotion leaked its way into her tone. She sounded so dead and dull, nothing like the ballerina that Angela had known so long ago. So much pity and sorrow made its way into her heart. “I deserve to be taken prisoner. I do not care whether I had any control over my actions, they were still my actions, and I should have to be punished for it.”

“I understand how brainwashing works, and that is the reason I would like to secure you, Amélie.” She held a hand up to prevent either of them from talking again, glancing over to Ana still watching carefully on another rooftop. “I know that you wish to get better and move past this part of your life, but there may be psychological effects you may still be unaware of. I want to keep you and everyone else safe while you recover.” She let out a heavy sigh, feeling very much like a tired mom trying to keep her children in line. “As for you, Gérard, you should report in to Winston.”

Neither of them said another word to argue with her, so she signalled for Ana to come over to them. The former captain got up from her perch on the other rooftop and made her way over, taking a few minutes to carry her old bones all the way to where they were. She grumbled something about needing some form of mobility, before facing Widowmaker and speaking to her. “It is good to see you again, Amélie,” she spoke in a knowing tone, making Angela wonder if something had happened between them - and that curiosity was only heightened when the blue woman flinched. She opted for minding her own business, though, wanting to get everything sorted out.

“Ana, you escort Widowmaker to an empty cell where she’ll have to stay for a little while. Just until we’ve had a meeting and can decide on what to do.” She glanced over to Gérard after she spoke, giving him a small glare and watching the proud assassin wilt a bit under her gaze. “As for you, Lacroix, I’m walking you over to Winston’s office to make sure you slip through our fingers again.”

He didn’t argue, but he did reach out for Ana’s wrist and gently took hold of the former captain. His face held a seriousness that Angela genuinely was not expecting from him. “Do not lay a hand on her,” Gérard spoke, brown eyes narrowed and a little threatening.

“I am not the type to seek out revenge on someone who was never in control of her actions,” Ana’s voice was equally serious, and for a few moments Angela genuinely thought that she was supervising a very, very intense staring contest. Within a few moments, however, Gérard finally released Ana’s hand and allowed the former captain to lead his wife away.

“You are lucky that she did not bite your hand off,” Angela’s words were cold and sarcastic, and she didn’t look Gérard in the eye as she turned around and began walking towards Winston’s office and expecting him to follow her. Judging by the sound of footsteps behind her, she assumed that he was. “You are also lucky that I am a pacifist and do not feel like punching you after all of the emotional exhaustion you have put me and everyone else that cares about you through. You could have at least let us know. We might have been able to help you.”

“I know,” he replied, sounding a little miserable, and if Angela wasn’t so angry she would pity him. What she wasn’t expecting, though, was for the assassin to suddenly rest a hand on her shoulder. She tensed slightly, and finally looked over her shoulder at him. “Look, I know you’re angry with me, and you have every right to be, and I’m sorry. I truly am. I know that you’re afraid of Amélie too, and you have every right to that as well. But you have to understand that none of what’s happened in the last ten years was her fault. She was kidnapped and tortured and forced into everything.” He took a shaky breath, and Angela could feel her heart starting to melt a little. “You have to help her, Angie.  _ Please _ . At least - at least make her heart rate normal again so that she doesn’t die. So that she has a chance.”

“I was already planning to do everything I can to help her.” She looked back towards in front of them, continuing to lead him into the watchpoint. “I was serious when I said that I only think she should be locked up temporarily to keep her and everyone else safe. I don’t blame her for everything Talon made her do.” Another glance was given back to Gérard, eyes narrowed into a heated glare. “Someone I do, however, blame for the last ten years, is the man who decided to let all his friends think he was dead.”

“I’m not the only one who -,” he started to defend himself, but seemed to give up before he could even finish the sentence. “Okay, fine, that was a shitty thing to do. But everything I’ve done, I’ve done for Amélie. Keeping hidden was to protect her. If Talon found out I survived…”

“Whatever you say, Lacroix, just shut up and get inside.”

* * *

 

The silence between Ana and Amélie was awkward and unbroken as the former captain led the sniper into the watchpoint and downstairs to the cells. Of course she didn’t blame her old friend for the brainwashing she had endured and everything she had been forced to do, but she wasn’t entirely sure how she was supposed to talk to someone who had shot out her eye and been a pawn to one of the most dangerous organizations in the world for a decade.

Luckily, she did not have to break the silence, because as the two women began walking down a staircase, Amélie decided to break up. “I’m sorry,” she apologized with a soft voice, and when Ana looked back at her she saw that her eyes were cast downward. “About your eye, and about everybody I’ve shot, and about everything I’ve done.” Her tone was significantly less flat and emotionless than it had been earlier, and instead held remorse. “I know that Gérard says it wasn’t my fault, and I know it wasn’t, but I probably could have tried harder to fight back and…”

“Stop.” Ana interrupted her, holding one hand up in order to keep her from talking anymore. “I forgave you long ago for my eye, and I cannot hold anything against you considering the circumstances it was all done under. Just the fact that you’re trying to break free and get better is evidence enough that you’re a strong and resilient woman with a kind heart. All you needed was a little push.” She gave a gentle smile back to the younger woman, though within moments she raised an eyebrow and began teasing her. “You had best let someone else keep an eye on your gun for a while, though.”

A small, bitter laugh left Amélie, and she seemed to be a little more relaxed than she had been before - the tenseness in her shoulders had lessened, and a small, faint smile had even appeared across her lips. It faded quickly, though, and when she spoke up her tone was flat and her expression serious. “Believe me, Ana, I do not intend to ever pick up a gun again. I never want to hurt anyone anymore, and I do not trust myself with the weapon that I was created to use.”

The smallest of pangs hit Ana’s heart, and she could feel her lips folding into a frown. She couldn’t even imagine how much every kill Widowmaker achieved haunted her. A sniper herself, she felt pain over her own jobs well done, but… at least she had chosen that path. Amélie had been kidnapped from a life as a civilian, brainwashed into attempting murder on her own husband and murdering multiple others over the last decade. She pitied the younger woman, that much could not be denied.

She was almost tempted to hug her, but instead, she opened a cell and gestured for Amélie to enter.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sombra leaves Talon for her own safety, and finds employment elsewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know having a long complex fic with separate arcs for every single galdarn character seemed like a good idea in context but i've been staring at my plans for the next ten chapter crying for the last half hour

The hacker returned to the Madrid base quietly, praying that her absence had not been noticed and that Amélie’s would be kept quiet for at least a few weeks. Sombra slunk through the halls late at night, most of the lights of the barracks off as she quickly made her way into her room - she let out a soft sigh of relief when she saw her monitor glowing a faint purple against the back wall of the otherwise dark room. She was able to lock her door easily with the low light guiding her, and made her way over to the device in order to hack into Overwatch’s security systems from far away and check in on her friend.

After affirming with Lacroix that Widow was safe, Sombra let out a small sigh of relief and closed the IM window she had open and opened up some hacking work that she had gotten started with a few days ago. Her typing was absent minded, more for the sake of getting some funds on the side than gaining information and power like she preferred to do - trying to steal a little from the bank account of some high and mighty business over to pay for her internet bills a little bit longer.

She was startled thereafter by a loud rapping on her door, and for a few moments she was inclined to ignore whatever superior wanted to complain about her goofing off on the job again or something like that, because the entire council probably knew that she wasn’t going to cut it out anytime soon. The only thing keeping her alive at this point was probably the fact that she was the best at what she did, and she knew that perfectly well - it had stopped disturbing her a long time ago. She fully expected for whoever was at her door to give up after a few moments and walk away grumbling.

So she was surprised when a second, louder pounding at her door. The hacker let out a long sigh, closing her eyes in irritation before pushing her chair away from her desk and lifting herself to her feet and walking over to the door. She might as well get the oncoming store out of the way. She reached out for the handle, opening the door and coming face to face with Gabriel Reyes, who looked as annoyed as someone hiding their deformed face behind a mask could be.

He pushed his way into her room without asking for permission first, but she was too caught off guard to really be irritated. Usually, it would be Maximillien at the very worst if she had managed to piss off the council enough, so she was already pretty anxious about whatever trouble she was facing at the moment. “What can I do for you, Gabe?” she asked, keeping her tone as cool and sarcastic as it usually was to try and avoid any suspicion more than what clearly was already there. She was a master at hiding her emotions - she had to become so even before being brought in by Los Muertos.

“You left with one of our fastest ships yesterday afternoon, and took Widowmaker and a skilled pilot with you. About an hour and a half ago, you returned back on base completely alone, and though the aircraft is back in the hangar, both the pilot and Widowmaker are missing.” He spoke in a flat tone, and she could feel his eyes burning into her soul from behind the mask. She could sense the anger behind his composure and voice, which was frightening considering his rage was usually cold and quiet.

She kept quiet, not entirely knowing how she was supposed to defend herself. Clearly just saying that she didn’t know what he was talking about wasn’t going to work, and she didn’t really have a plan in place for what she was supposed to talk about - having assumed that she was going to have a night to think about excuses. He put his hand up to keep her from talking before she could even try, though, and let out a heavy sigh, one hand going up to rest on his forehead.

“Look. I understand why you would want to get her out of this situation. I didn’t particularly enjoy watching her get tortured for years. I was good friends with her and her husband before she was kidnapped. But that doesn’t mean it was a good idea to just outwardly disobey a majority of the council and make off with one of Talon’s most talented and valuable agents.” Reaper’s words were spoken in a tone more tired and present than she was used to hearing from him. “Because I can understand why you would want to help Widowmaker, and because I would hate for your talents to be wasted, I’m going to give you a warning. I can distract the other members of the council for a while, but not forever. You’re going to have to disappear if you want to survive.”

All she had known Reaper for in the years she had worked with Talon, her superior had been little but cold and consumed with hatred for the organization that had left him to die. He was consumed with his wish for revenge, and Sombra had never seen another side of him. She wasn’t sure how to respond to it, really, so all she could really do was nod in response.

Her boss stared her down for a few seconds, and turned to leave rather quickly, stepping through the doorway. Reaper hesitated for a brief moment, turning back to look at her and grumble out a gruff “good luck.” She remained silent as she watched him walk away, still unsure of how she was supposed to react. After he closed the door and she could hear his footsteps walking away from her room. Almost mechanically, she turned away from her door and returned to her computer. Her typing was as absent minded as it had been before, most of her thoughts trying to put the interaction she had together.

It didn’t take very long for Sombra to realize that she needed to begin working towards disappearing altogether from every record she could get her hands on just from hacking. Everything she knew of was electronic now, so she wasn’t terribly worried about being able to get her existence wiped from Talon’s files - she was the best hacker in the world, for god’s sake, she could get this done in a timely manner. The only problem was that she didn’t know whether or not that would protect her from the Talon council if they decided to use their memories instead of electronic files for once.

She had always been planning on leaving Talon eventually, but she hadn’t really bet on getting attached to someone else enough that she would want to endanger herself and force herself out of the organization before she could get all of the information that she wanted. She had enough to sort through later on, of course, but to get more would be ten times more difficult than when she was on Talon’s payroll. Still, though, she couldn’t bring herself to regret getting Widowmaker out of one of the most fucked up situations she had ever witnessed. Being selfish was what she was best at, but…

Well, she wasn’t going to consider whether or not she wanted to change her entire philosophy and outlook on life based on just one person she ever cared to befriend. For the moment, all she could really afford to do with her precious time was get rid of her presence in the organization (and probably Widowmaker’s as well, now that she was thinking of it) and stockpile all the files she could reasonably get her hands on into a flashdrive. She needed to leave first and have an existential crisis later.

* * *

 

It didn’t take long for her to figure out where to go next. One week of hacking into everything she feasibly could without getting into more trouble with Talon, two weeks spent hiding out at home at Castillo, and she was on a plane to Utopaea, India with a job lined up with the Vishkar Corporation. It wasn’t difficult for her to find work in pretty much any organization she wanted, and if the fact that Talon had yet to track her down and assassinate her for her crimes, she assumed she could erase herself, too.

The city was, apparently, the gem of Vishkar’s developments, and she could understand that by looking around at the tall buildings and complex architecture. Not too bad, considering it was all made up of hard light. Admittedly, she probably had a bit in common with Vishkar - questionable morals at the very best, an insatiable hunger for power and a presence and seemingly anything that powerful people will show up at. It was the second of those two that drew her to seek their employment for her latest venture - she wanted a taste of their growing global influence and the information it could get her.

She was whisked off to a room in their headquarters and given a quick briefing on what her time working with Vishkar would entail - she was free to live wherever she pleased, but it was preferred for her to be in Utopaea so that she could report for duty at a moment’s notice. She agreed to these terms, but silently made plans to spend as much time as she humanly could in Dorado anyway. At least until she could get an advanced computer setup to rival the one she destroyed in her quest to leave Talon, anyway.

Her first mission would be simple. Accompany two other Vishkar representatives to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, in order to both ensure their safety and try to hack into the rebels’ systems, defenses, equipment, pretty much anything that the superior on the trip told her to do. The day after she arrived in Utopaea, she was on another plane, watching out the window as the gigantic Christ the Redeemer came into view. The plane landed and she was ushered outside by someone sent to fetch her without much difficulty, and she sat in the shuttle wondering whether this was worth all the trouble.

In the hotel where she was supposed to be staying, there was a massive conference room where she had been instructed to find herself after checking in. The place had once been a five star destination that only the wealthiest of tourists found themselves, but after the financial hardships brought about by the omnic crisis Rio became a much less popular vacation destination and the prices to stay in the hotel plummeted, but still she didn’t know if it was necessary to buy out the biggest and most lavish conference room the building had to offer for a grand total of three agents.

When she walked inside, only another woman sat at the long table, checking her phone. She was a couple of inches taller than Sombra, with long dark hair and a stoic expression upon her face. She had an elegant disposition, and almost immediately the hacker found herself drawn to her. Curious about her. The name of her female ally that Vishkar had supplied to her was Satya Vaswani, and she assumed from the uniform and the fact that she was here at all that this woman was Satya.

Before she could introduce herself or ask any questions, though, she was ripped out of her thoughts by the French doors to the conference room opening. Sombra looked to the superior assigned to the Rio de Janeiro case, and her heart skipped a beat when she found a very familiar face looking back at her. Sanjay Korpal, a member of Talon’s council not especially known for being involved with lesser agents but definitely known for how strict he was with those he did come into contact with. They had never met in person, but suddenly it made sense to the hacker why Talon had a tendency to help Vishkar whenever the situation called for it.

By some stroke of luck, he didn’t seem to recognize her, though, and she struggled to keep the fact that she had been startled pushed down into the back of her mind as the briefing began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i fuckign LOVE symmetra she's one of my favorite characters both as a personality and to play and i cannot WAIT to write about her.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lùcio has a meeting with a Vishkar agent to try and figure out a compromise. It goes about as well as you would expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOO BOY thank you for your patience... i kinda needed a break from writing for a little while, but i'm back and ready to get back on my overwatch bs

Lùcio didn’t especially  _ want _ to cause a massive fight or civil war or anything like that - he wanted his home to be left alone, and if fighting was necessary, he would do it. He was more of a pacifist than anything, though, and was pleasantly surprised when Satya Vaswani - apparently a gifted and central member of Vishkar - agreed to meet with him by the seaside and discuss a treaty. He had a sneaking suspicion, even, that she wasn’t even supposed to meet with him… and that gave him a little bit of confidence that  _ somebody _ in the corporation wanted to take care of it peacefully as well.

He tried to arrive early, but to his surprise a woman was already standing on the beach and looking out to the ocean. He guessed based on her uniform and the almost excessively perfect bun at the back of her head that this was the Vishkar representative that had agreed to meet with him. Lúcio approached her quickly with a sheepish smile, and when she turned to look at him, he almost felt guilty for being late despite the fact that he was there fifteen minutes before they were supposed to meet. “You must be Satya,” he greeted her simply, reaching out a hand to shake.

The woman glanced at his hand quickly and with almost a sense of disgust, and responded to him in a flat tone. “I am, and you must be Lúcio Correia dos Santos. The rebel leader I’ve heard so much about.” Her arms stayed crossed behind her back, and Lúcio felt a little awkward as he pulled his hand back to his side. “Well, let’s not skip around the issue for too long. I want Vishkar to be able to help your city, and you don’t. I am open to hearing your reasoning so that we may come to a conclusion.”

Well, she certainly came prepared for this discussion. The pop star felt himself pause for several moments, only able to stare at the Vishkar agent for a little while as he tried to think of some way he could sway her and make her see that her employers were hurting the people who lived in Rio. He cleared his throat, feeling unsure for one of the few times in his life. “Well, Miss Vaswani, Rio might have been struggling before Vishkar came around, and your promises sounded pretty good at first, but your employers have kind of been treating everyone in the slums and stuff like slaves. If they’re going to be working so hard on your plans, I think they deserve a little bit more of an income.”

The woman’s shoulders tensed almost immediately, and cold, calculating brown eyes narrowed at him. He could almost feel how defensive she was getting. “Vishkar has created jobs where there were few before. The people of Rio de Janeiro should be grateful for the opportunities that my employers have presented to you.” Her arms crossed over her chest, and Lùcio felt a spear of anger run through his chest as she faced her. Did she honestly not get where he was coming from here?

“Look, Miss Vaswani, I understand that you probably don’t know what it’s like to be impoverished like the people of Rio have been since the Crisis, but… no matter how desperate everyone here is for money, there’s no way that any of us will give up our freedom. That’s not even a choice.” He could see her glare deepening, like he hit a nerve somewhere, but he doubted that she was about to give up what it was. “Freedom is more important to the people of Rio than --”

“What you call ‘freedom’ I call a mess of chaos that does more harm than good.” Satya Vaswani almost sounded like she was talking down to him, light brown eyes staring at him as she held her chin up.  Lùcio didn’t know this woman’s story, but he was getting pretty annoyed by her acting like she was superior to him, smarter than him - like he was childish for wanting to live a free life and give his people the same opportunity. He was far from an easily angered person, but… well, he was slowly but surely getting there the longer he had to have this meeting with an uppity Vishkar representative.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, closing his eyes and taking a moment to calm down from his rising temper before giving the woman as charismatic and charming a smile as he could. He needed to turn the other cheek, because if he got angry with her and made it obvious she would just get angry and they would get nowhere because this would become a shouting match. “Miss Vaswani, I can’t say that I understand what you’re talking about, but I can assure you that freedom isn’t pure chaos. Maybe giving people the right to live as they choose can result in some disorder, but…”

“The true enemy of humanity is disorder.” She interrupted him before he could even finish his sentence, holding up a hand as if to silence him and looking at him with disgust. Not just distaste as she had been before… pure hatred, maybe something that could be interpreted as pity. His heart was pounding in his chest as his anger built. “Disorder leads to injury, to protests, to dissatisfaction. Perhaps Vishkar’s methods are not ideal, but they help keep everyone in order. We are trying to make a perfect society, trying to rebuild the world to be better and less dangerous for everyone.”

Lùcio genuinely didn’t know how he was supposed to argue with Satya Vaswani. She sounded so set in her rules, set in her mindset… he could sense that he would just make her more stubborn. “How would you feel if Vishkar took over where you grew up and controlled everybody that you loved, regardless of how they felt about it? I’m sure that you would feel differently if--”

“I wish every day that Vishkar had discovered more than just me in the village where I was born.” There she went again, not even letting him finish his sentence. “The lives of so many people would be improved, maybe even saved. Perhaps the wages that my superiors offer are not ideal, but we offer housing, food, and healthcare to the people that we hire. The people of Rio de Janeiro might not have been able to get their hands on any of these things if they were just left to rot instead of having their society rebuilt. Perhaps you should count your blessings instead of being an ingrate.”

He couldn’t lie - he was curious. What had this woman’s life been like to make her so unwaveringly loyal to Vishkar and obsessed with order? Lùcio could figure out just through her words that she had grown up in some form of poverty, maybe some form of abuse - but he knew that if he tried to ask she would see it as trying to get more information to manipulate her to his viewpoint with. To be honest, she was probably right. Of course he was curious, but he also wanted something - anything - that would get her to understand where he was coming from and what he was saying.

The musician began preparing himself to speak up again, more out of necessity than anything else, but before he could get any words out Satya Vaswani held up a hand to shut him up. “I can see now that I will be unable to change your mind, and to be honest I do not really care to. As I expected, you rebels have no logic to speak of, only childish feelings and ideals. You will be crushed beneath Vishkar’s thumb, and I cannot wait to watch it.” She turned on her heel while Lùcio was still in shock over her sudden words, and began walking away - she turned her head slightly before she could step off of the beach, though, to address him one more time. “I will say, though, for a ruffian you are quite charismatic and seem rather intelligent. Perhaps, if someday you settle down, you would make a good Vishkar agent.”

She clearly meant it as a compliment, but Lùcio couldn’t see it as anything more than an insult. He chose not to glorify her with a response, though, choosing instead to turn his back on her and look out at the ocean, listening to the waves and her fading footsteps to try and calm himself down.

Trying to be diplomatic and have a meeting with somebody from the enemy side hadn’t worked out like he thought it would - the only thing he  _ could _ do now was fight, but there was only so much the poverty riddled people of Rio de Janeiro could do. He needed help on a larger scale, and the only way he could think to do that was… the rumors of Overwatch starting up again. They were supposed to be guardians of freedom, weren’t they? Maybe they could help…

There was no way he could leave Rio like this, though. The conversation he had with Hana the other day crossed his mind, and without really thinking much, he glanced around to make sure the beach was relatively empty before quickly tapping on the contact for his fake girlfriend to call her. If he remembered right, it was kind of early in the morning in South Korea, so she might be up but not streaming yet - unless something came up where she needed to suit up, she should be able to answer. 

Sure enough, after two rings he heard the girl’s sleepy voice in his ear. “Hey, Lù,” she spoke with a small yawn, and he felt his heart warm a little. He might not have liked her romantically, but he thought of her as a younger sister figure. “It’s like six in the morning. You woke me up.” Her complaints were playful, though; they had known each other for a while, so he could tell she wasn’t actually upset. She was probably just assuming that he had forgotten about the time zone, and that thought alone was enough to make him feel a little bit bad about the theoretical bomb he was about to drop on her. This was something that he needed to do, though…

“Sorry for waking you up,” he apologized sheepishly, rubbing the back of his beck and almost laughing a little bit. “Look, Hana, I have a favor to ask of you. I tried talking to somebody from Vishkar today, but she was… kind of uppity, and I think that tensions are going to boil over if everybody from their organization is the same way.” He let out a heavy sigh. “I think we’re going to need help. I hate to ask you to do  _ anything, _ but would you be willing to fly to Gibraltar and see if the rumors about Overwatch coming back to life are true?”

Silence followed on the other line for several moments, as if Hana was thinking about it - he heard the sounds of shuffling covers on Hana’s end, like she was climbing out of bed quietly. “Okay.” Her agreement was a little surprising to him, and her voice was a lot more serious than it had been before. “I’ll get a flight for pretty soon and keep you updated, okay? I can’t promise anything else but I’ll take a trip over to Spain and look around the rock to see if there’s anything there. I don’t really understand why you can’t just do that yourself, though.”

“Because I can’t leave Rio with everything like this.” Lùcio couldn’t wipe the smile off his face, eternally grateful for his friend and how helpful she could be. “You’re a lifesaver, Hana, thank you so much. I’ll repay you somehow eventually, I promise.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem. I’ve been meaning to come up with an excuse to take a trip to Europe eventually. I’ll keep in touch, okay? I’ll talk to you later.”

“Talk to you later.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana arrives in Spain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back on my old bs of planning updates for saturdays and then finishing them early!!!!
> 
> also brigitte is the same age as hana for the purpose of this fic cuz it fits the actual timeline better suck my toes michael chu

The flight arrived in Spain in the middle of the afternoon, but Hana had been awake long enough that she felt like death the moment the plane touched the ground. She walked through the city like a zombie, dragging her rolling suitcase along with her as she tried not to collapse on the cement and pass out. She could probably afford a more fancy hotel room, but she got a cheap little one to avoid any unnecessary attention, and the moment she was checked in and made her way up to the room, she collapsed in the cheap bed and was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. 

Jet lag wasn’t as rough on her when her phone alarm went off at eight in the morning; she was well used to travelling and flying, so the only hard part of all the travel now was just the timezones. She climbed out of the cheap hotel bed and yawned, stretching and letting out the faintest groan imaginable; looks like she had decided the exhaustion wasn’t too bad far too soon. Still, though, Hana dragged herself into the tiny bathroom off of her room to brush her teeth and get ready for the ferry to the rock of Gibraltar she was supposed to catch at eleven. For a second, she regretted her decision to help Lùcio out and make this trip - less because she was worried about missing an emergency with MEKA and more because she felt like she’d been dragged by a car down the road.

Normally she would be a bit more of a tourist, but since joining MEKA her streams had gained something of a worldwide fanbase so she had to be careful about really showing up in super public places. That was why she was taking a smaller and cheaper ferry than one would expect a wealthy streamer and soldier to take, and had the cat - eared hood to her sweatshirt secured safely upon her head so that her face was a little bit masked by the shadows. She also lacked her usual pink face paint, settling instead for basic and natural looking makeup because God knows she wasn’t going to go anywhere with a naked face.

She leaned on the railing of the ferry as it departed from the shoreline of Malaga, brown eyes watching the city as it disappeared into the early morning fog and then settling her gaze on the churning waters beneath her. Hana let out a heavy sigh - she didn’t know why her chest felt so heavy, but whatever the reason, she wished it would go away. She had gone a few months relatively free of the depression and trauma that haunted her on a regular basis, and she didn’t especially want it to return to her now.

“Approaching the rock of Gibraltar,” said the captain, and Hana straightened up from her hunched position, squinting out into the fog. She could see the tall buildings of the abandoned - or supposed to be abandoned - Overwatch base that rested on the island, and she could feel a twinge in her heart. She seriously doubted the organization was attempting a comeback, but… what if it was and she was about to be trespassing on their sacred grounds? Would that end well for her?

She was not a coward, though; Hana - D.va - never backed down from a challenge, whether it be a virtual one or a real one. So she sucked in a deep breath, and when the ferry pulled into the small rotting dock of the rock, she stepped off and gave the captain a wave before walking into the small stretch of wilderness leading up to the massive base. Luckily for her, no map was required, because the growth had only been developing for the eight years or so Overwatch had been shut down and the top of it could still be seen pretty damn clearly from where she was.

At first glance, when Hana stepped onto the cement of the watchpoint the massive building looked about as abandoned as it should have been. She had promised to snoop around as much as she could, though, so she didn’t give up with just one glance, choosing instead to walk up to the wall of the building with her hands in her sweatshirt pockets and looking around to try and find any sign of life. The entire time she was walking, she kept repeating to herself that she wasn’t going to find anything - it was just so out of the realm of possibility for her to find anything.

So when she first spotted a light on in the distance of the watchpoint, her first thought was that she was just imagining it - it was a trick of the light, the sun shining onto the glass of a window and making it look like there was electricity where there wasn’t. Still, though, Hana kept walking towards that window, even though she wasn’t entirely sure why she was doing it.

When she finally got close enough to the lighted window to see the true source of that shine, though, Hana’s heart skipped a beat and she felt herself stop breathing. There was electricity. She didn’t know exactly why, but she was stunned and overwhelmed by the realization that yes, there was life in the watchpoint and, somehow, they had access to electricity even though the place was supposed to have been shut down for almost a decade. Shouldn’t the lights and machines there have stopped immediately as soon as the power company learned that Overwatch was no longer watching over the world?

Hana was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t notice that she was speeding up until she heard her own sneakers pounding on the pavement as she ran to the window with the light on. She barely remembered much about Overwatch, considering she was only about eleven when the organization shut down and South Korea had adapted pretty well to fighting the ongoing omnic threats at home without it - but from what she did recall from history books, the organization was worth looking up to, having saved the world from the first omnic crisis and kept its people safe for a generation.

Before she could reach her destination, though, a tall girl stepped in her way, and Hana came skidding to a stop, trying hard to keep herself from running into her. Her heart was pounding as she stared at the stranger with wide eyes - she had some very visible muscles freely shown by her tank top, hazel eyes narrowed at her and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Hana wasn’t sure if her erratic heartbeat was because of the excitement and fear, the fact that she just ran several yards, or the knowledge that a pretty girl was standing right in front of her. A pretty  _ Overwatch _ girl, presumably.

“You’re trespassing on private property,” the girl said in a firm tone, and for once in her life the famed game commentator had no idea what to say, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. “You’d better start explaining yourself, or I’ll be forced to get physical with you.” She stepped a little closer, towering over the streamer now, and Hana was totally flustered to realize that her first thought was  _ yes please _ after being threatened with getting physical.

“I…” she began to speak, and found herself hesitating. Technically, she knew that this girl was trespassing just as much as she was, and was probably was working in an organization that was supposed to be illegal. If she was right, though - if her hopes were reality - then this girl had friends just inside that would probably be able to take her out or hold her prisoner or something like that. What would Lùcio do if she dropped off the face of the earth? What would her home do?

“My friend heard rumors that Overwatch was coming back, and his - his home is in trouble, so he asked me to visit the old watchpoint and see if those rumors are true.” She prayed silently that was a good enough reason in this girl’s eyes. She seemed unimpressed, and anything besides fear was pushed into the back of her mind as a shaky breath pushed into her throat. “I thought that… if the rumors are true, then you guys should be able to help my friend’s home get out of the spot it’s in…”

The girl seemed to stop bristling, at least, and her shoulders dropped from the tense position they were in - her eyes were still narrowed, though, as she spoke in the same venomous tone. “We have more important things to worry about than your friend, and we probably don’t have the means to help much of anybody out on a big scale right now. We’re too busy trying to get ourselves back on track and trying to help people within our grasp.” She stepped closer again, and Hana couldn’t help but take a step back herself. “And, apparently, we have nosy girls stepping onto our property to worry about now.”

“Brigitte.”

A new voice sounded from behind the girl, who almost immediately untensed upon hearing it and turned her head. Hana glanced around her and found an omnic, floating a few inches off of the ground as he approached the two young women. His head was tilted, and she could figure out from his clothing and the way he carried himself that he was one of the monks she’d heard about from Nepal. “We do not get guests nearly often enough for you to be frightening them like this, Brigitte,” he spoke in a tone that conveyed enough disappointment in the girl’s actions that Hana could practically see her wilt. Hell, she didn’t even know the guy, and if he talked like that to her she would probably be on the ground groveling for forgiveness within a few moments, so her resolve was impressive.

The girl - Brigitte, if Hana had to guess - looked indignant and a little offended as she crossed her arms and responded to the omnic. “We can’t just have random people showing up at the base. If word gets out, we could get in some serious trouble. This girl looks like a serious blabbermouth anyway, I couldn’t just let her go around the island taking pictures or whatever.”

“Assuming the intentions of others does not make you look good,” the omnic responded sagely, and then walked around her in order to approach the gamer. He studied her for a moment, and let out an amused little chuckle. “She seems more trustworthy than you were giving her credit for, anyway. I can see years beyond what she’s experienced in her eyes.” He took one of her hands between both of his, and Hana could almost feel herself relaxing in his presence. “My name is Tekhartha Zenyatta.”

“I’m Hana Song,” she managed to get out, and glanced at the now shocked girl once more before she addressed the omnic - Zenyatta - again. “My friend asked me to come take a look and see if Overwatch is really coming back after he heard some rumors about it. See, the place where he lives is in some serious trouble thanks to a big organization treating the people already living there badly. I promised him I would have a look around, maybe see if you guys can help…”

Zenyatta put a hand up to stop her rambling, but he didn’t seem like he meant anything bad or rude by it. “I can’t promise anything, unfortunately, but I can take you to the scientist in charge here. You can talk to him for a bit, and then a decision can be made about whether or not there’s anything we can do. Heaven knows  _ I _ want to help, but… I can’t speak for all of us.”

Hana nodded, feeling a little bit more at ease now. “Yeah, yeah, I think that would be good.”

And so Hana Song, popular streamer and honorable soldier, was led into the Overwatch base, something that she had thought about frequently as a child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops sloppy ending cuz i didn't know what else to do


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana has a meeting with Winston.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm actually updating on my designated update day what is this

There are things that you expect when told that you’re going to meet the current (unofficial, Zenyatta kept assuring her) leader of Overwatch. A veteran soldier, old and aged by years spent in combat, maybe - possibly even one of the former leaders of the original organization.

The one thing that Hana didn’t really expect when she stepped into the office of the Overwatch leader was a massive gorilla working at a computer, with human like clothes and glasses. She didn’t even really know what to  _ say _ as she faced the hulking animal, only able to stare and wonder how she was supposed to address this.

Luckily for her, Zenyatta seemed to sense her shock and discomfort and stepped forward instead to address the gorilla before she was noticed and needed to explain her presence. “Winston,” he greeted the massive primate - scientist - calmly, a friendly tone to his voice. The gorilla, Winston, turned around from the computer he was working with, and blinked a couple of times. “We have a visitor. This young lady was walking around outside the watchpoint, and it seems that she’s interested in seeking our help or working with us.” The gamer felt a hand on her back as Zenyatta gently pushed her forward. 

Winston rose and lumbered his way over, a smile appearing on his face as he reached his hand out to shake. A little uneasily, Hana put her hand in his much bigger one - he seemed friendly enough, but she still couldn’t help but feel intimidated. “It’s wonderful to meet you,” he spoke in a deep, but sort of gentle sounding voice; honestly, a talking gorilla was probably the least surprising thing that Hana was faced with at the moment, but she couldn’t help but feel a little shocked nonetheless. “My name is Winston, and I’m sort of in charge of Overwatch for the moment. There aren’t that many of us.”

“Hana Song,” she responded, pulling her hand away the moment the gorilla let it go. She glanced back, watching as Zenyatta drifted back away from the two of them and settled into a bench across the office. “I’m sorry for intruding like this, I’m sure you don’t really like having intruders too often, but… I’m here as a favor for a friend. I promise I won’t go around telling my followers or anything that there are people active on the watchpoint, I really just want to talk about getting help for my friend.”

The scientist nodded, gesturing for her to sit down in a nearby chair and taking a seat on the floor. Hana complied, resting in the uncomfortable metal - but honestly, she wasn’t about to complain, her feet were killing her after the sprinting stunt she pulled and it was nice to take some pressure off of them. “Well, I can’t promise anything. Our resources and numbers are limited at the moment, and doing anything on a big scale might be a bad idea right now, considering all of us are breaking the law right now.” An uneasy laugh. “But I can say that I’ll listen, and if it sounds like something doable, we’ll definitely help out. And I trust that you won’t spill the beans on us, so to speak.”

Hana hummed a little bit. She knew perfectly well that they probably wouldn’t be able to do much of anything to her even if they did want to punish her for trespassing and spreading information; if anything, they would probably just be begging her not to say anything, if she hadn’t already said she wouldn’t. “Well, this might be a little bit out of your reach, then, but… have you ever heard of the Vishkar Corporation? They’re based in India and have been rebuilding some cities wrecked by the crisis.”

“I’m familiar with them,” Winston responded with a slow nod. “They’ve been on the news a few times, haven’t they? I don’t know that much about them, but I’ve heard about some controversy revolving around how they treat their employees and people who end up working for them in the jobs they make trying to rebuild the world.” He let out a small sigh. “I have to say, I don’t really agree with all of their methods, but I doubt taking them out is really necessary.”

“It’s less taking out the entire corporation that I’m worried about and more what they’re doing with my friend’s city,” Hana sighed heavily, and pulled out her cell phone - she tracked back through the texts she and Lùcio had been sending each other for quite a while until she finally reached the picture of a sheet involving how many Rio citizens were working for Vishkar compared to how much money was being paid. She held the phone out to Winston and let him have a look at it. “They pretty much turned the citizens of Rio de Janeiro into slaves, working under really crappy conditions for really little pay, and whenever somebody tries to complain about it they say that they ought to be grateful.”

She watched Winston’s brows furrow as he studied the sheet, a somewhat concerned expression appearing on his face. “I see,” he commented slowly as he listened to her, and leaned back when he was done, letting Hana put it back into her hoodie pocket. “So, basically, they’re leaving human rights laws in the dust under the guise of helping. It’s troubling, for sure, and seems like something the more political side of Overwatch would take care of back in the day, but… I don’t know if we have the power or ability to do anything about it now.”

“It would be nice to just have backup around, just in case things get violent,” Hana didn’t even realize that she sounded kind of desperate as she leaned towards the scientist a little. “Lùcio loves his home so much, and so do a lot of other people that live and work in Rio. It would mean a lot to everyone there if you guys could even just have a presence - some former Overwatch agents standing by and ready to fight for what’s right. Not to mention it might make people remember the good old days. People, the authorities, might warm up to the idea of bringing Overwatch back.”

Winston considered her words, watching her with scrutinizing yellow eyes. Hana stared back, her heart pounding; she was nervous, and prayed that she wasn’t showing it. The gorilla eventually let out a heavy sigh, and rested his head in one big hand before giving her a small smile. “You’re right, Hana, and honestly, you’re very convincing.” There was a small moment of hesitation, the scientist glancing back at his computer before he looked back to her. “Would you consider joining us?”

For a moment, she didn’t even fully process the question, and when she did, a shocked look appeared on her face. “Join you?” she repeated, quietly, the gears in her head turning. On the one hand, leaving MEKA would probably be seen as an act of cowardice, something not as patriotic as she was known for, but on the other hand… she could help so many people on such a wider scale with Overwatch. There wasn’t much to think about, if she was being honest. “Of course I will. But… can I go back to Korea for a little while? I need to get my mech and let Lùcio know about this.”

“Of course,” Winston agreed, a grin on his face as he reached over onto his desk, and together the two of them looked over an old Overwatch contract. It wasn’t that complex; just letting her know that if she signed, agreed to join the organization, she was expected to be available for duty as often as necessary and may be required to stay at the watchpoint, and that she needed to keep all confidential information secret or risk severe punishment. They were fairly easy circumstances, so she signed without too much worry, and about two hours after being brought into Winston’s office, she was being walked out.

“Take as much time as you need to gather up your belongings and call your friend, but make sure nobody else overhears you,” Winston instructed her as she stepped out of the doorway, and reached out with something clutched in his hand. Hana reached her own out expectantly, and the scientist pressed a small metal object into her hand. Once she had closed her hand around it, Winston closed the door to his office, and Hana looked down, opening her hand to look at the object.

It was a communicator, about the size of the palm of her hand and made of medal. The first word that came to her mind as she looked at it was ‘coin’ - the Overwatch logo was printed onto it, a little bit nicked in spots where time had been unkind to it. A little light was settled where the lines met, leading Hana to believe that it was a hologram communicator.

She closed her hand around it when she was satisfied with how long she had admired the communicator, and put it safely in her hoodie pocket, trading it for her cell phone. Hana unlocked it quickly and scrolled until she found Lùcio’s contact - she normally would have been satisfied with texting him about it, but this just felt too big, and she wasn’t going to go back into town and call him there - her hotel room was cheap, and she didn’t trust the other people staying in that place as far as she could throw them. The gamer held her phone up to her ear as she listened to it ringing, tapping her foot impatiently on the ground as she waited for her friend to pick up.

Hana watched the sun begin to set, reflecting golden off of the water and igniting the sky in a blaze of orange and yellow. Normally, she would be more focused on how beautiful it was, but at the moment all she could really think about was how the last ferry back into town was going to be leaving pretty soon and Lùcio had better pick up his phone quick before she had to hang up altogether and just make him wait until she had another moment alone to call him.

Luckily, though, the ringing cut out after just a few rings, and Lùcio spoke on the other end. “Hana, what’s up? Why are you calling?” he asked, and Hana almost let out a little laugh. They texted, they always texted, so of course just calling would tip her fake boyfriend off that something was up. “You’re not hurt or anything, right? I know you’re in Spain right now, I don’t know how injuries work when you’re overseas but it’ll probably be kind of complicated checking into a hospital -”

“I’m fine, Lùcio,” she interrupted his rambling, continuing to walk towards the dock where the ferry would be arriving soon. She might as well be there to minimize her chances of having to turn back up at the watchpoint and request a place to sleep. “Better than fine, actually. I checked out the old watchpoint like you asked me to, and…” A small pause as she glanced around to make sure that nobody was there. “And the rumors are true. Some people are there, trying to get Overwatch back together. I talked to them about helping out in Rio, and they said they would be willing to, but… but they also asked me to join them! I’m going to be a member of Overwatch as soon as I’ve gotten my mech and as many of my belongings as I’ll need living on the watchpoint for a while!”

“Holy shit,” Lùcio spoke quietly, probably in shock, and Hana could hear the squeak of him leaning back in his chair. “Oh my God, Hana, that’s great news. Like, really great news. Do you know when you guys will be coming to Rio? I mean, you can take your time, of course…”

“I don’t know for sure, but I’ll talk to Winston when I get back,” Hana looked up, seeing the ferry zooming towards the rock. “I’ll call you back later, okay? My ride’s here and I don’t want to risk having this conversation where people can overhear.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” A small pause. “Stay safe, Hana.”

“I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> if you enjoyed please feel free to leave a comment, kudos, etc!


End file.
